ahausman

Life-and-death, no-fail situations are the things that send the imagination wild: the knight versus the dragon, the raft and its crew fighting against the merciless rapids of a treacherous, raging river, and the mountain climber hanging on to the side of a cliff with nothing more than his ice axe.

I would argue that these scenarios are far more frequent and common that we think- driving a Honda Civic down the highway is quite literally pushing 3,000 pounds worth of steel and gas at 70 miles per hour, not turning the barbecue, stove, and oven off after we’re done with them can lead to a fatal house fire, not leaving the gate to the pool closed when there are young children and elderly folks with dementia around can lead to a drowning and a lifetime of guilt and shame, and not cutting limbs off a tree safely or correctly can lead to paralysis or even a lethal head injury.

This week’s portion of Shemini (Leviticus 9:1-11:47) shows how quickly and easily everyday transactions and events can become dangerous and life-threatening. In it we read:

“Now 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 by GOD’s will.”[*Leviticus 10:1-2]

For Nadab and Abihu this duty was a daily occurrence, but yet it was far from mundane or ordinary. The second they made a mistake, it was all over for them.

Sadly, this is far from a one-off. In the haftarah portion that accompanies Shemini, we are told of a similar tragic story:

“Then David and all the troops that were with him set out from Baalim of Judah to bring up from there the Ark of God to which the Name was attached, the name GOD of Hosts Enthroned on the Cherubim. They loaded the Ark of God onto a new cart and conveyed it from the house of Abinadab, which was on the hill; and Abinadab’s sons, Uzza and Ahio, guided the new cart…But when they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out for the Ark of God and grasped it, for the oxen had stumbled. GOD was incensed at Uzzah. And God struck him down on the spot for his indiscretion, and he died there beside the Ark of God.” (*II Samuel 6:3-4, 6-7)

Then there is the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Eden for eating from the Tree of Knowledge, Moses being banned from entering the Land of Israel for having struck the water-bearing rock instead of talking to it, and Saul losing his divine protection and sanction as king for having not killed Og. In other words, there are a myriad of examples in the Tanakh where a single mistake, lack of judgement, or even minor error can have calamitous and far-reaching consequences.

As we move into the spring season (and soon summer), and are blessed with beautiful weather, let us all remember the human tragedy and lesson that is the deaths of Nadab, Abihu, and Uzzah. As such, let us monitor how much alcohol we consume and designate a sober driver, remember to put our phone’s down when we’re behind the wheel, and remind ourselves to make sure our grills are cool after use, our pools are locked up after our swims, our firearms are secured and out of the reach of children, and that we have plenty of water and sunscreen at our disposal, life jackets in our kayaks and canoes, and EpiPens for those with allergies.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may we all braid our fun this spring and summer with a reminder to be safe in all that we do.

I hope this finds you well.

Three different manufacturing companies, three different CEO’s. One day, a major piece of equipment fails at each of their facilities and their production lines come to a grinding halt. Each of the CEO’s has a different reaction:

The first is heard screaming every curse word and proclivity known to mankind while throwing anything and everything that isn’t nailed down.

The second blames everyone in sight: “I bet you had something to do with this”, “I knew it was too early to promote you,” and “Look at what you’ve done to my company.”

But the third, the third takes a different and far more productive track. He calls in all the department heads and calmly tells them: “Folks, I’m not going to lie to you: this is bad, but it’s fixable and we’re going to get through it together. We are not going to blame one another. We’re going to be a team on this as we’ve always been; we’re going to perform our individual roles to the best of our abilities, and we’re going to help one another out. We’ll also find out what went wrong, fix it, take accountability, and learn from it.” He then starts giving out immediate assignments- customer service is tasked with writing letters apologizing to customers whose products deliveries will be delayed, PR to do a news release as well as a notice to the board of directors, the budget office to find out how much the breakdown will cost them, and maintenance to start running diagnostics and begin necessary repairs on the dead-lined equipment. The one thing he doesn’t do is lose his temper.

You can guess which employer most people would want to work for.

On the Shabbat that takes place on the hallowed festival of Pesach, we read a special selection of Torah, Exodus 33:12-34:26 to be exact. In it, God tells Moses of His Shelosh-‘Esreh Middot HaRakhamim, His Thirteen Attributes of Mercy. We read, “The ETERNAL passed before him and proclaimed: “GOD! GOD! a Deity compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness…” (*Exodus 34:6)

I’ve always been fascinated by this idea of being “slow to anger.” After all, there are so many stimuli in our daily lives that can so easily get under our skin, from our internet or power going out, to a traffic jam, a company saying they’ll deliver something by a certain date and failing to do so, something breaking, and someone saying something that is hateful to us. The causes for anger, upset, and consternation abound. It seems like they’re just sitting there in the ether waiting to get a rise or reaction out of us.

True forbearance, genuine patience, and actual calmness take discipline, the same discipline that comes with daily exercise, training for a marathon or weightlifting, dieting, getting to places on time, or an improved sleep schedule. It is a conscious effort, one that takes the whole of our mental, emotional, and spiritual strength in order to accomplish. Keeping calm, staying our emotions, and not reacting wildly or going off the cuff, is for most something that takes constant and consistent practice. It’s far more than a healthy habit, it’s meant to be the key to a happier, fuller, and richer life.

Our sacred texts and learned sages remind us of why this middah (value) is so important.

In Proverbs it is written, “He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he that rules his spirit than he that takes a city,” Ben Zoma taught, “Who is a hero? He who conquers his will,” and Leon of Modena counseled, “Who cannot command himself shall not command others.”[1] Likewise, the poet Ezobi penned, “Through anger heroes fall”, Rabbi Hisda preached, “Anger in a house is like a worm in a plant,” and the Book of Job reminds us, “Anger kills the foolish man.”[2]

Shortly before this beautiful holiday of Passover began, we searched and cleansed our homes of chametz (leavened food products) in order for us to enter the separate, unique, and above all else, holy time and space that is Pesach.

This special, and quite frankly, timely reading provides us with a challenge: just as we are meant to remove chametz from our houses in order to fully enjoy the sanctity that is Pesach, so too must we dispense with and cleanse ourselves of the anger that we have and exhibit in order to be holier and more worthy of God and the blessed potential that He has set forth for us.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a very Happy Passover.

I hope this finds you all well.

I was reminded of Kitty Genovese when I read one of the mitzvot in this week’s parsha of Vayikra (Leviticus 1:1-5:26). In Leviticus 5:1 we read:

“And if any one sin, in that he heareth the voice of adjuration, he being a witness, whether he hath seen or known, if he do not utter it, then he shall bear his iniquity…”*

Maimonides, in his work the Mishneh Torah, tells us succinctly that this means, “Anybody who knows evidence must testify in court”.[3]

A lot of people have grown up being told and hearing things such as “mind your own business,” “no one likes a tattletale”, “keep your head down and your mouth shut,” “always say, ‘I didn’t see anything’”, and of course, “snitches get stitches”. Why? Self-preservation and a fear of violent reprisal or retaliation against both them and their loved ones, being ostracized, becoming involved in something that you have no interest in, or even in gaining a reputation that you can’t be trusted. It’s these well-known messages and reinforced mores that keep good, everyday people silent.

There are costs to this silence. If someone refuses out of fear to testify in court, an innocent man may hang or an otherwise guilty rapist, murderer, terrorist, or drug trafficker could go free and continue their reign of terror. This is far from some obscure academic theory or a logical exercise, it is as real as real gets. Need proof? Look no further than Kitty Genovese.

One of the great heroes of the Jewish people, acclaimed author, Nobel Peace Prize laureate, and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel taught, “What hurts the victim most is not the cruelty of the oppressor but the silence of the bystander” and “silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”[4]

“If you see something, say something” is far more than a catchy slogan. It is not only what keeps society moral, but indeed society functioning altogether. Several years ago I watched the Netflix series Narcos and Narcos: Mexico. It was frightening to see entire countries that were quite literally held hostage by powerful drug cartels who employed wide-scale violence, terrorism, bribery, corruption, intimidation, retaliation, and retribution to further their illicit activities, and who overtly displayed a complete disregard and total disdain for the rule of law. I thought to myself, how does a society get to such a place, and perhaps more difficult to answer, how does it come back from there?

Perhaps the answer can be found here: earlier this year, Secretary of War Pete Hegseth, in a speech to our nation’s top admirals and generals and senior enlisted leaders, brought up the “Broken Windows” theory of policing. He said “If you let the small stuff go, eventually the big stuff goes, so you have to address the small stuff.”[5]

Secretary Hegseth brilliantly hit the nail on the head. Things do certainly start out small. A tree starts out as a seed. And that seed grows. And that seed grows and grows until you have a tree. And then you have more trees. And before you know it, you have entire forests. But those trees and those forests are ultimately dictated, implanted, defined, and directed by those seeds.

So if we tell our kids at a young, impressionable age- saplings if you will, “mind your own business”, “keep your mouth shut”, and “always say ‘I didn’t see anything’”, then that’s who they’ll develop into as adults, leaders of their communities, and influencers of our society. We will quite literally reap what we sow. But, if, on the other hand, we teach them the story of Kitty Genovese, the mitzvah (commandment) of Leviticus 5:1, the immortal words of Elie Wiesel, the lessons of Narcos, the “Broken Windows” theory of policing that Secretary Hegseth reminded us of, and the sacred call of Deuteronomy 16:20 (tzedek, tzedek tirdof- justice, justice you shall pursue), we will reap a far more just and holy community.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help and in honor of Kitty Genovese’s memory, may “if you see something, say something” always triumph over “snitches get stitches.”

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a peaceful weekend.

I was reminded of LDS family night when I read this week’s parsha of Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1-24:18). In it we are commanded, “Six days you shall do your work, but on the seventh day you shall cease from labor, in order that your ox and your donkey may rest, and that your home-born slave and the stranger may be refreshed.” (*Exodus 23:12). In order words, Shabbat (the Sabbath) is a day of rest for everyone in Israel including the livestock! Nothing, no matter how pressing, is meant to interfere with the holiest day of the week; it can and will wait.

As a teenager, I once asked my dad how to save up for retirement. He told me, “Take 20% of your annual earnings and immediately put it into a 401K. Do it automatically, every year, without fail. Don’t even think about it. When you make your budget, it doesn’t even go on the spreadsheet because you’ve already put that money in the 401K. No matter what’s going on in your life or in the world, never compromise on this.”

Too often in life, we let things go. There are things that are important to us, but when a competing activity, cost, or interest comes to the forefront, the thing that is important to us gets triaged and begins to slide down the list. It happens once, then twice, then thrice, and before we know it, it’s just no longer a priority.

To be clear, this mindset is far more than just honoring Shabbat; it’s about all the commitments and priorities that have value for us.
This is about wanting to get healthy by going to the gym, and starting out strong by going once a day, until once a day becomes once every other day, and then twice a week, and then a few times a month, until not at all. This is about committing to visiting an elderly parent or grandparent twice a week, until twice a week becomes twice a month, then once a month, then on holidays, until maybe once a year at best. This is about how date night goes from being a weekly activity that couples look forward to, to a once-a-month outing, to “let’s see where we can fit it in,” to “I can’t remember the last time we went out.” And finally it’s about saying that we’ll give regularly to a charitable cause that we care about, until it becomes intermittent, then seldom, then finally not all.

I’ll be the first to say “I get it.” There are only 24 hours in a day and often there are certain time slots that become “prime real estate.” I 100% understand it. Our kids need their extracurricular activities, we have jobs that we need to work in order to put food on our tables and pay the bills, and money certainly doesn’t grow on trees…in other words, this is all easier said than done.

Ok, so how do we make sure that we don’t lose sight of those things that we care about?

To this end Rabbi Shammai taught “make your [study of the] Torah a fixed practice.”[*3] Likewise, the Jerusalem Talmud instructs us that we must always leave at least 1/60th of our produce fields for the needy.[4] The commonality of these teachings is that like Shabbat for us and like family night for our LDS friends, they are non-negotiable. So if our gym time is 6-7AM, then that time is blocked off. The same goes for visiting mom in the nursing home, weekly family and date nights, and going to Shul. It also applies to the charities we care about and putting money into our 401K’s. These things are blocked off, end of story. But what if there’s a kids rec league, a civic club, or job whose hours require us to revolve around their schedules? That’s a valid concern. I would argue that Exodus 23:12 is telling us that the fixed things come first and all other considerations come second.

Making a fixed, consistent schedule is not an easy endeavor. However, if we depart from it, we’re teaching our children a very important lesson about who and what are important to us. If we stick to it though, we’re gifting them with an even more powerful message.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may we be strengthened to keep the people, the times, and the values that are so cherished to us fixed and upfront!

These scenarios are all pretty ridiculous, right? Technically, could all these folks get the job done? Sure, absolutely. However, it would take forever, and while they’re only able to take care of one customer a day, their competitors can look after far more clientele. Their methods can all be summed up with one word – “inefficiency” – and are a surefire way and textbook example of how to go out of business quickly.

These vignettes seem so absurd that they border on the verge of delusion. However, they are surprisingly close to one of the episodes found in this week’s parsha of Yitro (Exodus 18:1-20:23). In it, we find Moses acting as the sole arbiter and judge for 600,000 men (not including women and children)(Exodus 18:13). Upon observing this, Yitro (Jethro), Moses’s father-in-law, gives his son-in-law a much-needed heart-to-heart:

“What is this thing that you are doing to the people? Why do you act alone, while all the people stand about you from morning until evening? The thing you are doing is not right; you will surely wear yourself out, and these people as well. For the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone. Now listen to me. I will give you counsel, and God be with you! You represent the people before God: you bring the disputes before God, and enjoin upon them the laws and the teachings, and make known to them the way they are to go and the practices they are to follow. You shall also seek out, from among all the people, those who are capable and who fear God—trustworthy ones who spurn ill-gotten gain. Set these over them as chiefs of thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens, and let them judge the people at all times. Have them bring every major dispute to you, but let them decide every minor dispute themselves. Make it easier for yourself by letting them share the burden with you. If you do this—and God so commands you—you will be able to bear up; and all these people too will go home unwearied.” (*Exodus 18:14, 17-23)

Yitro’s lesson applies not just to the worlds of governance and business, but indeed every corner and facet of our lives.

When most people think of charity (tzedakah) and good deeds (ma’asim tovim) such as volunteering, traits and descriptors like kindness, grace, mercy, love, friendship, understanding, sympathy, selflessness, and sweetness immediately come to the forefront. Fair enough. I would argue that for most people, in the context of giving of themselves to others, two of the least associated words are “efficiency” and “effectiveness.”

If you were to ask people why they donate to charity, volunteer their time in community organizations, and give of themselves to noble causes, I’m sure one of the most common answers would be “I want to help people and make the world a better place.” After all, Tikkun Olam (repair of the world) is a central middah (value) in the life of the Jewish people.

However, this is where efficiency and effectiveness come in. There is a widely known parable: “Give a man a fish, he eats for the day; teach him how to fish and he eats for the rest of his days.” To this end, the Rambam taught, “The greatest level that has nothing above it is to strengthen the hand of a Jew who has become poor and give him a gift or loan or create a partnership with him or make up some work for him, so as strengthen his hand until he does not [any longer] need to ask others [for help]. And about this it is said (Leviticus 25:35), ‘and you shall strengthen the hand of a stranger and a resident and he shall live with you;’ meaning, strengthen him until he no [longer] falls and becomes needy.”[*1]

In other words, the Rambam is saying that the most effective AND most moral thing you can do is to get this person to a level of self-sufficiency and away from a life, in the words of Blanche DuBois, of “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” That should be our goal and the game plan from day one.

There are a myriad of wonderful charitable organizations out there that seek to do the right thing; however, many of them are far from efficient. There are also many of us who want to and seek to do good and make positive change in the world; however, many of those efforts and activities are far from effective.

Part of the process of doing and being good is taking time for self-reflection and asking ourselves some hard questions like, “Are the charitable organizations I’m supporting actually bringing about meaningful change?” as well as “Is what I’m doing truly making a palpable, tangible difference?”

Parsha Yitro is a holy challenge. Perhaps it’s telling us that it’s not enough to be good; we’re meant to be efficient and effective when it comes to being good.

Bizrat HaShem, may we all heed the words of Yitro and the Rambam and teach others how to fish.