ahausman

Loyalty in deed, Indeed!

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach.

I hope this finds you all well.

My wife said something truly powerful to me in the car the other night that she heard from attorney Elica Le Bon: “It’s more important to be good than to appear to be good.” She couldn’t be more right. Think about it- who do you want in your life: the friend who tells you they’ll show up for you and never does, or the friend that says they’ll show up and actually does? The choice is pretty clear.

On the joyous holiday of Shavuot which starts this year on Sunday, we read the story of the Book of Ruth. In it, the elderly and impoverished Israelite Naomi, after having lost her husband Elimelech and two sons Machlon and Chilion, tells her Moabite daughters-in-law Naomi and Orpah to return to their parents as she has nothing to offer them. They refuse to leave her, but when Ruth tells them to depart a second time, Orpah obeys and tearfully leaves. Ruth, in contrast, clings to Naomi and utters the now famous declaration: “Do not urge me to leave you, to turn back and not follow you. For wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus and more may the LORD do to me if anything but death parts me from you.” (Ruth 1:16-17*)

I feel a little bad for Orpah – she honors her mother-in-law by obeying her. However, in doing so, we today read the Book of Ruth and not the Book of Orpah. On the other hand, she’s no Ruth. Ruth, out of loyalty and love, argues, pushes back, and goes against what’s obviously the safer option, the easy choice. I hate to think the worst of Orpah, but I have to ask, were her actions simply performative? Did she secretly breathe a sigh of relief when Naomi scolded her and told her once more to go home to her parents? Or, was she in fact a loving and strict loyalist who did exactly what her mother-in-law commanded her to do, to the letter, regardless of how she herself felt?

And perhaps this is where Orpah and Ruth differ. Orpah is loyal to the word, while Ruth is loyal to the deed. Ruth’s actions go far beyond those of Orpah.

So who are we called to be as Jews?

Ibn Ezra wrote, “My deeds shall both my witnesses and judges be”; Shammai proclaimed, “Say little and do much”; Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel taught, “Not theory but practice is the essential thing”; and the philosopher Baruch Spinoza penned, “We can judge a man faithful or unfaithful only by his works.”[1]

Hence, true loyalty and fidelity means to go above and beyond for those we love and care about.

As an American Jew, when I think of loyalty incarnate, one of the first people that comes to mind is Christopher Celiz (z”l). Chris was both a proud Jew and US Army Ranger who sacrificed his life in 2018 in the mountains of Afghanistan. He willingly and consciously placed himself between an American helicopter and enemy forces so that the aircraft would not be shot down. His loyalty was quite literally embodied by his actions, deeds, and ultimate sacrifice.

Bizrat HaShem, as we approach the holy and sacred festival of Shavuot, may we always remember to be as loyal as Ruth, to be devoted as Chris Celiz, and to be forever mindful that loyalty is far more of a physical act – one that is full of blood, sweat, sacrifice, hard days, and tears than it is a word that simply looks good.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos, a wonderful weekend, and a Chag Sameach!

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

I hope this finds you all well.

There’s this guy. He buys a brand new jeep. He is so excited about his new ride. And he does everything with it- hauling equipment, off-roading, the daily commute, long family trips, going to the grocery store…you name it. When his wife offers to drive them somewhere in her car- nope, it has to be the jeep. Even when he has the option to walk, bike, or use any other type of transportation, he still uses that darn jeep. Well, as one can imagine, that beloved new toy of his doesn’t last too long.

When we think of the word “rest”, especially in a Jewish context, we think of Shabbat, the seventh day, the divinely-ordained day of rest. We read in Sefer Beresheit (the Book of Genesis): “And God blessed the seventh day, and hallowed it; because that in it He rested from all His work which God in creating had made.” (Genesis 2:3*).

But who is this rest actually for?

In Sefer Shemot (the Book of Exodus) we find out. We are told, “Remember the sabbath day and keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of Adonai your God: you shall not do any work – you, your son or daughter, your male or female slave, or your cattle, or the stranger who is within your settlements.” (Exodus 20:8-10*).

This idea of mandating all of God’s creations and manifestations to have rest and renewal goes further, when in this week’s combined parsha of Behar-Bekhukotai (Leviticus 25:1-27:34) we are commanded, “When you enter the land that I assign to you, the land shall observe a sabbath of Adonai. Six years you may sow your field and six years you may prune your vineyard and gather in the yield. But in the seventh year the land shall have a sabbath of complete rest, a sabbath of Adonai you shall not sow your field or prune your vineyard.” (Leviticus 25:2-4*)

Cars need tune-ups, aircraft need inspections and parts changed out, ships need repairs in dry dock, people and animals need rest, and the land needs to go fallow from time to time. All things need rest. We simply can’t go a million miles an hour all the time, nor demand that of others. We need to make sure we get relaxation and resiliency both for ourselves and those around us.

Bizrat HaShem, with God on our shoulders and in our hearts and minds, may we all practice and realize the importance of rest and renewal.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

I hope this finds you all well.

There’s this kid, and he’s fast, and I do mean fast.  When he runs the 100 meter, everyone else is just fighting for second place. Given his speed and maneuverability, playing as a wide receiver seems like a natural fit. He exceeds expectations and performs brilliantly during his pee-wee and middle school years. His major flaw is that he’s good and he knows it all too well. Instead of confidence, he displays arrogance; instead of a desire to learn and improve his game, he brags constantly about all his achievements; and instead of humility, he gives off an air of hubris a mile away.

Well, high school comes around and he shows up for the football team’s training camp. Everyone thinks he’s a shoo-in for starting wide-receiver. When the results come in after camp, he shockingly doesn’t make first-string. He doesn’t even make second string. In fact, he doesn’t even make the team at all!

Angry and indignant, he goes to the coach. “Why didn’t I make the team, don’t you know how fast I am?! How could you do this to me?!”

“You are fast, there’s no doubt about that,” the coach replies, “But I need players who are far more than fast. After practice each day, did you help move the practice dummies? Did you help collect all the jerseys? In the morning, you were always the last to arrive, and as soon as practice was done in the afternoon, you were the first one to leave. While your friends were diligently studying the playbooks every night, you were texting with buddies back home and playing on your phone. You never offered to help clean equipment. When your potential teammates were eating healthy meals, you were snacking on junk food. And after runs, which yes, you always finished first in, you never went back and cheered on the slower candidates or ran with them. Wearing this uniform is a privilege, earned by teamwork and exemplified by selflessness, not how fast you can sprint down the field. Values will always triumph over talent.”

One of the most important marks of great leaders is selflessness, i.e. the putting aside of one’s own dreams, wants, comforts, desires, and ambitions in service of those they lead. In other words, their service is leadership. Better put – it’s servant leadership.

In this week’s parsha of Emor (Leviticus 21:1-24:23), we see several examples of such servant leadership.

We receive several commandments including the prohibition of Kohanim (priests) from defiling themselves except for the closest of relatives (21:1) and only being allowed to marry a woman who is a virgin and is not a widow, divorcee,  born from wedlock, or had been involved previously in harlotry (21:7,13-14).

But what is the point of these mitzvot (commandments)? Why are they there?

We are told: “For they are holy to their God and you must treat them as holy, since they offer the food of your God; they shall be holy to you, for I Adonai, who sanctify you, am holy.” (21:7-8)

As one can discern, to be holy requires living in an absolute and unquestionable state of purity. To achieve this, the priests had to give up and forgo anything, anything that could be seen or considered as being in conflict or detracting from this Avodah Kedosha – this holy service. And of course that meant gut-wrenching sacrifice. If a priest and divorcee fell madly in love, they could not marry; if a priest had a dear friend (who was not family) who died, he could not stand vigil over his body and pay his last respects; and if a priest wanted to marry a woman with a troubled past but had reformed her ways, he was likewise prohibited from having a life with her. No doubt, these prohibitions could cause deep and everlasting heartbreak.

So how did some of our great sages give us comfort when duty entails such sadness? The 13th century Rabbi, Eleazar ben Judah of Worms wrote, “The love of service burns in the hasid’s heart, and he is glad to fulfill the will of his Creator”; The 17th century Czech Rabbi Elijah Landsofer proclaimed, “The purpose of man’s creation is the service of God”; and the Italian Rabbi of the 18th century Moshe Chaim Luzzatto wrote, “Like a swift moving fire which ceases not nor rests, until it has accomplished its purpose, so must man’s energy be in the service of God.”[1]

In a secular parallel, in 1947, the 21-year old future Queen Elizabeth II told the British people, “I declare before you all that my whole life whether it be long or short shall be devoted to your service.”[2]

The priests both led and served the people of Israel and they served God. This life of servant leadership was neither easy nor comfortable, but it was authentic, essential, and most importantly, sacred.

The altruistic lives and devoted service and the kohanim give us each a fundamental question to ponder: “What are we willing to give up and what are we willing to sacrifice in order to be of service to our communities, our nation, our fellow Jews, humanity, and God?

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may we all recognize and embrace the spirit of servant leadership that each of us has within our souls.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

I hope this finds you all well.

In the film The Free State of Jones, Newton Knight (played by Matthew McConaughey) and his followers hold a Confederate Lieutenant and his soldiers at gunpoint after they try to confiscate the local farmers’ corn crops. He declares:

“He’s asking if I ought to kill a man for some corn … I don’t know … See here, lieutenant, you steal our corn, we got nothing to feed the hog. If we can’t feed the hog we got nothing to put in the smokehouse, we got nothing to put in the smokehouse we starve in the winter. That’s murder, ain’t it? You know what the penalty for murder is, don’t you, lieutenant?”[1]

Often in life, we only think of the immediate impacts of our words and actions. But how often do we think of the many long-term ramifications and secondary, and tertiary effects that come with them?

In this week’s combined parsha of Acharei Mot-Kedoshim (Leviticus 16:1-20:27) we receive 79 commandments. One of them is exceedingly clear-cut: “Ye shall not steal; neither shall ye deal falsely, nor lie one to another.” (Leviticus 19:11*)

When should someone not steal or swindle? Well, on the face of it, it’s wrong; you’re taking something that doesn’t belong to you.

But it goes beyond that. Going back to McConaughey’s character’s quote – theft has a domino, ripple effect on everything from the victim’s livelihood, health, and well-being all the way to robbing them of their sense of safety, righteousness, justice, innocence, trust, goodness and morality in the world. An act of theft can most assuredly traumatize its victim. Additionally, for those who commit theft, those who steal, and those who swindle, they earn an indelible reputation and a mark on them that follows them all the days of their lives. Honestly, the labels of “thief” and “swindler” can continue to dog and sully one’s name and stain their memory long after they have died. And even if they change their ways, the mark will remain on them like a tattoo, scar, or brand. It can even soil and besmirch the thief’s family, school, and communities who are often tragically declared guilty simply by association.

The great texts and sages teach us as much. Rabbi Akabiah ben Mahalalel of the Mishnah proclaimed, “I’d rather be called a fool all my life than commit wrong in the sight of God for one moment.” (Mishnah Eduyot 5:6**). Likewise, Samuel ben Adiya taught, “Thus did my father counsel me in bygone days: ‘Samuel, destroy not what I have built up!’”** Finally, in Proverbs we are instructed, “a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.” (Proverbs 22:1**). In companionship to these powerful sentiments, in the famous movie Gladiator, Russell Crowe shouts, “What we do in life echoes in eternity.”[2]

With this mitzvah, we see far more than just a commandment and a law, but a mindset with which to move through life. If we proactively and consciously thought about the far-reaching effects and implications of our actions, perhaps we would think, speak, and act in a far more sacred, kind, and holy manner.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may we think deeply and thoroughly long before we ever act or speak.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

Shabbat Shalom!

I pray this finds you all well.

As a liberal arts guy, I’ve always held medical professionals (doctors, PA’s, dentists, pharmacists, psychologists, APRN’s, medics, corpsmen, EMT’s, etc.) in the highest regard. Obviously, first and foremost, their job…their calling, their passion is to save lives and provide their charges with a better quality of life. But it’s also about the vast amount of knowledge – anatomy, biochemistry, toxicology, hematology, virology, radiology, oncology, psychology, pharmacology – that they possess and their ability to fuse these complex disciplines into diagnoses and treatments.

One day, I’m having lunch with a friend of mine who’s a doctor. He tells me how wonderful, how noble it is that I’m a Rabbi. I tell him, “Look, thanks, I appreciate it, but I can’t even hold a candle to what you do, to what you provide for folks.” He replies, “You want to know a secret? 80% of all health is in the hands of an individual. Think about it – exercising regularly, drinking plenty of water, brushing your teeth, avoiding fast food, getting your daily steps in, putting on sunscreen and wearing a hat and sunglasses, taking vitamins and minerals, not smoking or using tobacco products, drinking alcohol sparingly, getting enough sleep, reading, doing mental stimulation games, stretching, eating a healthy diet, not doing any illegal drugs, washing your hands, bathing, avoiding dangerous habits like driving drunk, high, or distracted, oh…and not holding lit fireworks in your hand on July 4th weekend; you do all those things, that’s a huge chunk of preventive health right there. If folks followed these simple things, you can bet I’d have a lot less patients coming to see me. And here’s the thing, these are easy fixes that don’t require any pre-med, med school, or a residency.”

Holy cow! He had a point. I had always thought about each of these simple practices individually, but put them together, and collectively they go a long way towards giving us good health and a great quality of life.

There’s an old saying: “cleanliness is next to godliness.”

But what if we were to say that to be healthy and clean is to be holy, and equally so, to be holy is to be healthy and clean? In other words, the two go seamlessly hand-in-hand. What if we were to say that our bodies were klei kadosh – vessels of holiness and treat them as such?

In this week’s combined parsha of Tazria-Metzorah (Leviticus 12:1-15:33) we see the confluence of health, cleanliness, and holiness. We receive multiple mitzvot (commandments) such as destroying one’s clothing if they become afflicted with a skin disease (Leviticus 13:45), not shaving a scall (Leviticus 13:33), and immersing oneself in a mikveh in order to cleanse and purify oneself after episodes of impurity (Leviticus 12:6; 14:10; 15:13-14, 28-29).

It’s remarkable – these mitzvot were not only meant to achieve a state of ritual and spiritual purity, but also had the effect of maintaining a degree of hygiene and wellness. In other words, physical, biological health comes from the Torah, the realm of the spiritual, thus placing it in a state of holiness. Tazria-Metzorah is far from the only example of this. For instance, in Deuteronomy 23:13, the Israelites are commanded to dig and utilize latrines outside of camp.

Another important point worthy of mention is that while many of the acts of purification and cleanliness require the presence, assistance, or declaration of a kohen, there are others that do not and can be done individually. The same can be said of our everyday holiness. There are many things that we can do each and every day- donning tefillin, reciting the Shema, saying the morning, afternoon, and evening prayers, reading the great Rabbis, contributing to tzedakah, performing gimilut chasadim and ma’asim tovim, and studying Daf Yomi – all of which we can do without the need for a Rabbi or a Shul, and of all of which allow us to access the holy and the sacred.

Two of our great sages echoed these sentiments. The Rambam taught, “The properties of the soul depend on the condition of the body,” and the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber wrote, “The soul must not boast that is more holy than the body, for only in that it has climbed down into the body and works through its limbs can the soul attain to its perfection. The body on the other hand, may not brag of supporting the soul, for even when the soul leaves, the flesh falls into decay.”[1]

Perhaps the lesson from Tazria-Metzorah is two-fold: first, health and holiness are deeply and purposely linked, and second, so much of our health and holiness is in our own hands.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may we all pursue intertwined health and holiness.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

Why Construction Crews Wear Neon

Shabbat Shalom!

I pray this finds you all well.

As true as it is, the expression “Experience is the best teacher,” is a pretty harsh and cold concept. In other words, it means that painful mistakes, embarrassing errors, unfortunate accidents, and regrettable actions are going to give us tangible and palpable lessons that we’ll never be able to forget. It’s sad, it’s frightening, and it’s incredibly heartbreaking, but there is a great deal of pragmatism, truth, and honesty to it.

In this week’s parsha of Shemini (Leviticus 9:1-11:47), we see such a painful and tragic error play out.

We read: “Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu each took his fire pan, put fire in it, and laid incense on it; and they offered before God alien fire, which had not been enjoined upon them. And fire came forth from God and consumed them; thus they died at the instance of God.” (Leviticus 10:1-2*)

It’s a mistake, and a very, very costly one at that, for the two novice priests who are brand-new to the job. More than a mistake and an accident, it’s a senseless tragedy and it should never have happened.

Sadly, we see the human toll that accidents, mistakes, and errors have on those around us. Go down the highway and you’ll see crosses marking where drivers sadly met their end, go past a construction crew and you’ll realize why they wear brightly colored, reflective, neon clothing and hard hats, put out orange safety cones and road flares, and have their own signage, drive past a high school right before prom and graduation season and you’ll get why they park a car wreck from a fatal DUI or distracted driving fatality right out front, or go to any building and you’ll understand why there are signs clearly displaying how to get to an emergency exit. In most of these cases, I posit that some terrible series of events had to have taken place at some point in the past that influenced how and why we do the things that we do in the present day.

The question begs: how do we make sure that we and those whom we love and care about never become a case study, statistic, news story, or tragic example?

To this end, the Talmud tells us a few things. For instance, Rav Dimi of Nehardea declares, “once an error is taught, it is taught, and cannot be easily corrected.” (Bava Batra 21a). In other words, if you see something wrong, unethical, immoral, dangerous, or unsafe, call it out immediately! If unsafe habits and practices fester, they can quickly become ingrained and institutionalized. Rabbi Judah teaches, “be careful in study, for an error in study counts as a deliberate sin.” (Pirkei Avot 4:13). I would take this to mean check, double check, and even triple check your work. Heck, have the humility to have someone go over your work as well. And if in doubt, check yourself a fourth time! Finally, there is a beautiful lesson from Derekh Eretz Zuta: “If you desire to study, do not say regarding what you do not understand, ‘I understand’. If you are questioned on [even] a trivial matter and you are not acquainted with it, be not ashamed to say, ‘I do not know’. If you were taught something which you did not grasp, be not ashamed to say [to the teacher], ‘Repeat it to me’ and do not pretend to yourself ‘I understood it’.” (Derekh Eretz Zuta 2:3).

We are bound to make errors and mistakes and have accidents happen to us because, after all, we are human. However, that does not mean these calamities aren’t preventable. If we get into a proactive and thoughtful mindset there is a lot of sadness and pain that we can get ahead of and even prevent. There are best practices and habits that are within our grasp that can mitigate and even eliminate such risks.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may we take full advantage of the wisdom, patience, insight, awareness, understanding, thoughtfulness, humility, and common sense that we have in our minds, hearts, and souls to act safely both for our sakes and for the sake of others.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

Quick Rabbi’s note:

Hi, Everyone – Shabbat Shalom Moadim L’simcha!

   A quick apology!  Next week is actually Parsha Shemini…   …  This week is a special reading in honor of Pesach. (Exodus 14:30 – 15:21) (Haftarah II Samuel 22:1 – 51)

My apologies for any confusion, but I do hope you find this D’var Torah meaningful, nonetheless!

Wishing you a good Shabbos and a Happy Passover!  – Rabbi Aaron

Sometimes Silence is Best

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach! I hope this finds you all well.

I was very blessed with a phenomenal teacher and mentor during my time in Rabbinical school. I am forever grateful to him for his tutelage and friendship. Of all the nuggets of wisdom he shared with me, I’ll always remember a story he told me: there was a woman who had just lost her husband. They had been married for years and years and years. Their love for one another had neither ceased nor diminished; if anything, in fact, it had only grown with time. As one can easily understand, the widow was devastated. After the funeral, shiva was held at the widow’s house. Friends and family chatted and talked. The widow sat there on her living room couch, crying softly. My mentor went over to her. He offered no words, not a single syllable or utterance. He simply sat down next to her and held her hand. He held her hand and she held his for hours. No words – no mitzvot from Torah, no poetry from psalms or proverbs, no commentary from Rashi or Rambam… just his silent, reassuring, comforting presence. I’ll remember that story as long as I live.

I’ve loved our prophet Moses, Moshe Rabbeinu, since I was first taught about him at three years old. I’ve been in awe of his holiness, leadership, bravery, tenacity, humility, resiliency, and perseverance. He truly is the greatest of all our prophets.  But Moses was human, and because of that, sometimes he got it wrong, and that’s ok; in fact, there’s probably something humanizing and reassuring about that that makes him far more real, human, relatable, and accessible to us. I posit that in this week’s parsha of Shemini (Leviticus 9:1-11:47), we see one of these instances.

In Leviticus 10:1-2, after offering “alien fire” on the altar, Aaron’s two eldest sons, the newly appointed priests Nadab and Abihu, are killed.  In the next line, literally the next line, Moses turns to Aaron and says: “This is what God meant by saying: ‘Through those near to Me I show Myself holy, And gain glory before all the people.*’” (Leviticus 10:3).

When I hear Moses’ words I am reminded of other unhelpful, and quite frankly counterproductive words of “comfort and consolation”:

It is the adult who tells a child who has lost their first dog or cat, “oh don’t worry, you can get another one.”

It is the person who tells their friend going through a painful break-up or divorce after a multi-year relationship that no one saw coming, “it’s all good, there are plenty of fish in the sea.”

And it is the person who tells a woman who has suffered a traumatic miscarriage or still-born, “it’s ok, you can try again.”

When Moses says these words to Aaron, the text tells us the following: “And Aaron was silent.” (Leviticus 10:3).

For many, silence is awkward and uncomfortable. In moments of deep sadness and pain, we try to break the silence of pain and fill the pain of silence with words, any words really. We need words to make ourselves feel less awkward and we assume that those in pain need it as well. However, our forefathers saw past this and taught that sometimes less is more and that silence can truly be golden.

Rabbi Yehuda of the Talmud taught “The best remedy of all is silence;” (Megillah 18.a.11). In Proverbs we read “A knowledgeable man is sparing with his words; A man of understanding is reticent. Even a fool, if he keeps silent, is deemed wise; Intelligent, if he seals his lips; (Proverbs 17:27-28) Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar teaches “Do not assuage the anger of your friend at the time of his anger; do not console him at the time when his deceased lies before him…” (Pirkei Avot 4:9); and finally, Rabbi Shlomo ibn Gabirol declares “In seeking wisdom, the first step is silence, the second listening, the third remembering, the fourth practicing, the fifth teaching others.”[1]

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help and guidance, may we know when to offer words of hope, consolation, and reassurance to our neighbors, friends and family, and may we know when to simply be there with them in the pain of silence and silence of pain.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos, a Happy Passover, and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Paseach Kasher v’Sameach!

I hope this finds you all well.

There is probably no worse statement or refrain in the entire history of mankind’s presence in the workplace than, “don’t worry about it, you’ll figure it out.”

Seriously, if you’re in the hospital, would you want a couple of brand-new residents to stick you with some unknown quantity of only God-knows-what because this is what the attending said to them when they asked for help and guidance?    Would you want to be anywhere near a building site after a foreman tells a construction worker who’s on his first day on the job to go into the cab of a wrecking ball crane and get started with this mantra?

Or, would you want to get back into your car after a junior mechanic was feeling overwhelmed, and when he asked his supervisor for advice, that was their boss’s answer?

No, of course not!

It’s fair to say that things like college, law, medical, and trade school, basic training, and other professional programs are only going to teach us so much. We’re going to learn a lot of the practical elements and best practices while on the job out in the field. And why?

I think there are three reasons for this:

1. Our fields, no matter what they are, are constantly evolving and quickly changing. This is due to everything from laws and regulations to keeping pace with technology.

2. There is always going to be a lag, a gap between the institutional “school house” and the “real world.” It’s no one’s fault, but it’s hard to get what’s happening out in the field sent back to the school houses where it has to be reviewed, codified, formalized, agreed upon, and then translated into lesson plans with its associated material.

3. Finally, there is simply not enough time to teach us every aspect of our jobs, occupations, and skills. If schools did this, we’d probably stay there until we’re 50!

But this does not excuse a lack of knowledge or competency on anyone’s end. This is where on-the-job training (OJT) comes in. On-the-job training goes by many different names: “OJT”, “left-seat, right-seat”, “staff orientation”, “traineeship”, “apprenticeship”, etc. The point of OJT is to close the gap between what someone learned in the school house and what they’ll be doing in the field. It connects theory with hands-on application. If conducted properly, there shouldn’t be a lot of “don’t worry, you’ll figure it out’s” being flung around.

In this week’s parsha of Tzav (Leviticus 6:1-8:36), we perhaps see, I posit, OJT in action.

From the first lines: “God spoke to Moses, saying: ‘Command Aaron and his sons thus: This is the ritual of the burnt offering: The burnt offering itself shall remain where it is burned upon the altar all night until morning, while the fire on the altar is kept going on it. The priest shall dress in linen raiment, with linen breeches next to his body; and he shall take up the ashes to which the fire has reduced the burnt offering on the altar and place them beside the altar,’” (Leviticus 6:1-3) through the last two lines: “Everything done today, God has commanded to be done [seven days], to make expiation for you. You shall remain at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting day and night for seven days, keeping God’s charge—that you may not die—for so I have been commanded.’ And Aaron and his sons did all the things that יהוה had commanded through Moses*,”(Leviticus 8:34-36), we observe God through Moses, giving last minute instructions, tips, procedures, regulations, performance measures, and best practices to Aaron and his sons. In other words, God is giving them the practical elements and fine points of their duties, their jobs.

Rabbeinu Bahya, quoting the Zohar, paints a perfect scene of what took place: “During these seven days Moses performed the High Priest’s duties (dressed only in a white tunic) in order to confer all this sanctity upon Aaron. Rabbi Abba said that seeing that Moses was firmly rooted in the holy place whence all this power stemmed, he was able to transfer this sanctity to Aaron.”[1]

It is the ultimate example of “left seat-right seat.”

To show just how serious this topic of OJT should be taken, we need only look a few chapters prior. In Exodus 30:9 we are told,

“You shall not offer alien incense on it, or a burnt offering or a meal offering; neither shall you pour a libation on it.” Yet next week, in parsha Shemini, we will read how Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu both tragically perish after offering aish zarah – strange fire at the altar (Leviticus 10:1-2).

It raises two powerful questions:

1. Did Moses convey this prohibition to Aaron and his sons?

2. Did Nadab and Abihu actively listen to their uncle?

In Judaism, one of our most cherished dictums is lilmod ulelamed- we will learn and we will teach. We see it in every facet of our Jewish lives as we teach our children the Shema, tell them of the stories and mitzvot found in Torah, prepare them for Bar and Bat Mitzvah, and apropos to this season, have them ask the four questions at the Passover Seder.

It is therefore incumbent that each of us, when adding someone new to our team, heading to a new position, or hanging up our spurs, give the most clear, thorough, and comprehensive OJT as possible to those who come after us. This is a sacred duty and responsibility.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may the words, “don’t worry about it, you’ll figure it out,” never come from our lips or be heard in the ears of those who follow us.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a very Happy and Healthy Passover.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

Shabbat Shalom!

I hope this finds you all well.

Many moons ago, back when I was a gawky teenager in my senior year of high school, I gave a ride home to two fellow seniors. I thought I was so cool, so great driving other folks around. I was so consumed with this sense of adolescent hubris and youthful arrogance that as I turned right at a red stop light, I literally didn’t think to look to my left to see if there was any oncoming traffic. We almost got hit and I had to peel off the road to avoid a collision. I was beyond ashamed and embarrassed, and my classmates were visibly shaken by the experience. Ridden with guilt, I told my dad (of blessed memory) what happened as soon as I got home, handed him the car keys, and declared that I never wanted to drive again. After a couple days, he sat me down and asked me four questions:

“What did you do?”

“What were the implications of what you did?”

“Did you apologize to your classmates and make amends with them?”

“What are you going to do in the future to make sure that never happens again?”

I answered the first three questions to his satisfaction, but my answer to his fourth- “I’m never driving again,” was simply not acceptable to him. He handed me the keys to the car, and said, “you’re going to take me to the supermarket and I’m going to give you the directions.” We took a very long, scenic route getting there, one that involved a lot of four-way intersections, red lights, stop signs, and right turns.

Looking back, I can’t be more grateful to my Dad. It was the ultimate “dust yourself off and get back on the horse” moment.

I’ll be honest – I hadn’t thought about that story from my life for years, and I do mean years, until I came to this week’s parsha of Vayikra (Leviticus 1:1-5:26).

In Vayikra, God tells Moses the following:

“When a person unwittingly incurs guilt in regard to any of God’s commandments about things not to be done, and does one of them —

If it is the anointed priest who has incurred guilt, so that blame falls upon the people, he shall offer for the sin of which he is guilty a bull of the herd without blemish as a sin offering to God.

If it is the community leadership of Israel that has erred and the matter escapes the notice of the congregation, so that they do any of the things which by God’s commandments ought not to be done, and they realize guilt — when the sin through which they incurred guilt becomes known, the congregation shall offer a bull of the herd as a sin offering, and bring it before the Tent of Meeting.

The elders of the community shall lay their hands upon the head of the bull before God, and the bull shall be slaughtered before God.” (Leviticus 4:2-4, 13-15*)

Earlier this week I was listening to retired Navy SEAL and podcaster Jocko Willink as he interviewed fellow retired SEAL Jim Foreman. Specifically, they discussed mistakes and errors they made on the battlefield and how they dusted themselves off and got back on the horse. Willink offered the following nuggets of advice:

“…it’s my fault and sometimes; [and] people, they take that to the point of ’it’s my fault and therefore I need to be punished over and over and over again and never forgiven.’…If you can’t say ‘oh yeah, here’s what I did, this was my intent, I didn’t intend for this bad thing to happen but it is certainly is something I did. I’m going to learn from it and I’m going to forgive myself and move on.’… I think if you can go, ‘okay, here’s where I am culpable, here’s the mistakes that I made, here’s how I’ll prevent them happening again,’ I think that’s the way out of it and the way to move forward in life.” [1]

Interestingly enough, the Jewish Publication Society’s 1985 translation of the Torah alternatively calls the khatat the sin offering, the “offering of purgation.”[2] In other words, it means purging, removing, getting rid of the sin from one’s presence and life.

The beauty of the sin offering/offering of purgation is that it allowed our ancestors to atone for their errors, learn from their mistakes, and get back to work with the full knowledge of what they had gained from their experience.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may we always atone for and learn from our errors, may others accept our atonement (and we their’s), and may we all come back from our mistakes stronger, wiser, more compassionate, and overall better people.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)