It's a girl!!! Grand baby #1 that is!!! B'H!!

This is so good, regarding this week's Parashah, Terumah. By Rabbi Jonathan Saks. It had me thinking about what all of us are building, here at A-T, a community, a family.

Why We Value What We Make
Terumah 5778

The behavioural economist Dan Ariely did a series of experiments on what is known as the IKEA effect, or “why we overvalue what we make.” The name comes, of course, from the store that sells self-assembly furniture. For practically-challenged people like me, putting an item of furniture together is usually like doing a giant jigsaw puzzle in which various pieces are missing, and others are in the wrong place. But in the end, even if the item is amateurish, we tend to feel a certain pride in it. We can say, “I made this,” even if someone else designed it, produced the pieces, and wrote the instructions. There is, about something in which we have invested our labour, a feeling like that expressed in Psalm 128: “When you eat the fruit of the labour of your hands, you will be happy, and it will go well with you.”[1]

Ariely wanted to test the reality and extent of this added value. So he got volunteers to make origami models by elaborate folding of paper. He then asked them how much they were prepared to pay to keep their own model. The average answer was 25 cents. He asked other people in the vicinity what they would be prepared to pay. The average answer was five cents. In other words, people were prepared to pay five times as much for something they had made themselves. His conclusions were: the effort that we put into something does not just change the object. It changes us and the way we evaluate that object. And the greater the labour, the greater the love for what we have made.[2]

This is part of what is happening in the long sequence about the building of the Sanctuary that begins in our parsha and continues, with few interruptions, to the end of the book. There is no comparison whatsoever between the Mishkan – the holy and the Holy of Holies – and something as secular as self-assembly furniture. But at a human level, there are psychological parallels.

The Mishkan was the first thing the Israelites made in the wilderness, and it marks a turning point in the Exodus narrative. Until now God had done all the work. He had struck Egypt with plagues. He had taken the people out to freedom. He had divided the sea and brought them across on dry land. He had given them food from heaven and water from a rock. And, with the exception of the Song at the Sea, the people had not appreciated it. They were ungrateful. They complained.

Now God instructed Moses to take the people through a role reversal. Instead of His doing things for them, He commanded them to make something for Him. This was not about God. God does not need a Sanctuary, a home on earth, for God is at home everywhere. As Isaiah said in His name: “Heaven is My throne and the earth My footstool. What house, then, can you will build for Me?” (Is. 66:1). This was about humans and their dignity, their self-respect.

With an extraordinary act of tzimtzum, self-limitation, God gave the Israelites the chance to make something with their own hands, something they would value because, collectively, they had made it. Everyone who was willing could contribute, from whatever they had: “gold, silver or bronze, blue, purple or crimson yarns, fine linen, goat hair, red-dyed ram skins, fine leather, acacia wood, oil for the lamp, balsam oils for the anointing oil and for the fragrant incense,” jewels for the breastplate and so on. Some gave their labour and skills. Everyone had the opportunity to take part: women as well as men, the people as a whole, not just an elite.

For the first time God was asking them not just to follow His pillar of cloud and fire through the wilderness, or obey His laws, but to be active: to become builders and creators. And because it involved their work, energy and time, they invested something of themselves, individually and collectively, in it. To repeat Ariely’s point: We value what we create. The effort that we put into something does not just change the object. It changes us.

Few places in the Torah more powerfully embody Rabbi Yohanan saying that “Wherever you find God’s greatness, there you find His humility.”[3] God was giving the Israelites the dignity of being able to say, “I helped build a house for God.” The Creator of the universe was giving His people the chance to become creators also – not just of something physical and secular, but of something profoundly spiritual and sacred.

Hence the unusual Hebrew word for contribution, Terumah, which means not just something we give but something we lift up. The builders of the sanctuary lifted up their gift to God, and in the process of lifting, discovered that they themselves were lifted. God was giving them the chance to become “His partners in the work of creation,”[4] the highest characterisation ever given of the human condition.

This is a life-changing idea. The greatest gift we can give people is to give them the chance to create. This is the one gift that turns the recipient into a giver. It gives them dignity. It shows that we trust them, have faith in them, and believe they are capable of great things.

We no longer have a Sanctuary in space, but we do have Shabbat, the “sanctuary in time.”[5] Recently, a senior figure in the Church of England spent Shabbat with us in the Marble Arch Synagogue. He was with us for the full 25 hours, from Kabbalat Shabbat to Havdallah. He prayed with us, learned with us, ate with us, and sang with us.[6] “Why are you doing this?” I asked him. He replied, “One of the greatest gifts you Jews gave us Christians was the Sabbath. We are losing it. You are keeping it. I want to learn from you how you do it.”

The answer is simple. To be sure, it was God who at the dawn of time made the seventh day holy.[7] But it was the sages who, making “a fence around the law,” added many laws, customs and regulations to protect and preserve its spirit.[8] Almost every generation contributed something to the heritage of Shabbat, if only a new song, or even a new tune for old words. Not by accident do we speak of “making Shabbat.” The Jewish people did not create the day’s holiness but they did co-create its hadrat kodesh, its sacred beauty. Ariely’s point applies here as well: the greater the effort we put into something, the greater the love for what we have made.

Hence the life-changing lesson: if you want people to value something, get them to participate in creating it. Give them a challenge and give them responsibility. The effort we put into something does not just change the object: it changes us. The greater the labour, the greater the love for what we have made.

Shabbat Shalom,


[1] On the pleasures of physical work generally, especially craftsmanship, see Matthew Crawford, The Case for Working with your Hands, Viking, 2010; published in America as Shop Class as Soul Craft. Among the early Zionists there was a strong sense, best expressed by A. D. Gordon, that working on the land was itself a spiritual experience. Gordon was influenced here not only by Tanakh but also by the writings of Leo Tolstoy.

[2] Dan Ariely, The Upside of Irrationality, Harper, 2011, 83-106. His TED lecture on this subject can be seen at:


[3] Megilla 31a.

[4] Shabbat 10a, 119b.

[5] Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man, Farrer, Straus and Giroux, 2005.

[6] He was not, of course, obeying all the Shabbat laws: both Jews and Christians agree that these are imperatives for Jews alone.

[7] As opposed to the festivals, whose date is dependent on the calendar, that was determined by the Sanhedrin. This difference is reflected in the liturgy.

[8] Halakhically, this is the concept of Shevut, that Ramban saw as essentially biblical in origin.

LIFE-CHANGING IDEA #19
The effort you put into something does not just change the object:
it changes you. The greater the labour, the greater the love for what you have made.

From the book Advice:
Rabbi Nachman: ADVICE (LIKUTEY ETZOT) by Rabbi Nathan of Breslov

Eating #1
If the food a person eats is pure in accordance with the dietary laws and he eats it with dignity, without swallowing it hurriedly, the powers of his mind will be restored and grow and his foolishness will be subdued. But if he eats like a glutton, then he will be overwhelmed by foolishness. He will lose his intelligence and the light of the Tzaddik will be concealed from him. He will no longer be able to learn the love and fear of God from the Tzaddik (17: 2,3).

Since we are studying Rabbi Nachman's last Rosh Hashanah lesson before he passed away as well as Rosh Hashanah being only a few days away, I thought you all would enjoy this little story about his move to Uman.

Posted By breslov.org on Jul 18, 2012 in Uman, Uman Inspirational | 0 comments

The events in the following account of Rebbe Nachman’s move to Uman are true. All that we know about Rebbe Nachman’s life is based solely on Reb Noson’s writings, as none of the Rebbe’s other followers recorded anything for posterity. We have taken the liberty of telling the story of this journey as it might have been told by the Rebbe’s gabbai (personal attendant). The events of the Rebbe’s move can be found in Tzaddik #107, Yemey Moharanat, pp. 32b-34b, and Until the Mashiach, pp. 184-187.

Friday night, May 4, 1810 (Rosh Chodesh Iyar 5570):

The Rebbe was sitting at the Shabbat table. “I swear by the holy Shabbat that right now I know absolutely nothing!” he said.

This was not the first time that I had heard him say this. In fact, I have been present on more than a few occasions when he would declare: “Now I know nothing, nothing at all!” This could happen a day after, or even an hour after, he had revealed the deepest Torah insights imaginable. His great wisdom was obvious for all to see, and yet afterwards he insisted that he was totally ignorant. No wonder that he himself once remarked: “My teachings are very unique, but my not-knowing is even more so!”

I was thinking about this when suddenly we heard cries from the nearby street, where a great fire was burning out of control. “Shoin! Shoin! (Already! Already!),” the Rebbe exclaimed. Throughout the week of Pesach there were many fires in Breslov, and he had spoken about this at length. His reaction now indicated his readiness for what was about to happen.

The fire drew nearer and nearer. There was a great commotion inside the house. Grabbing what we could, we ran for our lives, and with the help of the Almighty, everyone managed to escape. But as it was Shabbat, no attempt was made to extinguish the fire, so that in the end the Rebbe’s house and his bet hamidrash were destroyed.

With the fire still burning, we waded through the nearby river and sat on the hill with the sifrei Torah. I looked over to where the Rebbe was sitting and surveying the burning town. I could see a mixture of joy and excitement in his face. Shortly before dawn, Reb Noson joined us. He had spent the night helping remove things from the Rebbe’s house, and now appeared exhausted, though relieved.

Sunday, May 6, 1810 (2 Iyar 5570):

Today a man arrived with a message for the Rebbe from the maskilim (followers of the Enlightenment movement) of Uman. When the Rebbe heard the message his face turned red, but I’m getting ahead of myself here.

About a month ago, several men from the villageof Teplikwho were visiting in Breslov asked the Rebbe if he was ready to move to Uman. These men traveled often to Uman and were convinced that the Rebbe would be very well-received there. Actually, I recall their having raised this topic a number of times throughout the winter, but each time the Rebbe put them off. More recently he himself had brought this up, saying that he wanted to live in the house of Nachman Nathan Rappaport, a well-known maskil who had passed away the previous summer. Then after Pesach, the Rebbe sent someone to arrange lodgings for him in Uman, and also apparently to ensure that his residence there would be welcomed by the different factions that governed the city.

Uman had become a stronghold of the Haskalah (Enlightenment movement) under Chaikel Hurwitz and Hirsh Ber Hurwitz. Chaikel was personally responsible for blocking the appointment of no less a personage than Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berdichov as the city’s chief rabbi. Today a man arrived from Uman with a reply to the Rebbe’s inquiry of the previous week. In his hands I could see the book Yain Levanon by the renowned maskil, Naftali Hertz Wiesel. Chaikel and Hirsh Ber had sent it for the Rebbe, as the agreed-upon sign that they would welcome him to Uman. When the Rebbe saw the book, his face flushed a deep red. None of us realized then what the Rebbe understood well: that he was being called by Heaven to die.



Tuesday morning, May 8, 1810 (4 Iyar 5570):

The coach hired two days earlier to take the Rebbe to Uman would be arriving soon. I recall thinking that the Rebbe had been waiting so long for this day, and now it had finally come. As I poured hot water into a cup, it dawned on me that this would be the last coffee I would serve the Rebbe in Breslov. The eight years that Breslov had been his home had certainly passed quickly. Considering all that had taken place the previous Shabbat, it seemed likely that he would never be returning. And yet, a couple of hours later, as we were getting ready to leave Breslov, the Rebbe put his hand on the mezuzah and said that if his followers prayed together with sincerity, they could bring him back.

Accompanying the Rebbe in the coach were Reb Noson, myself, and the man who had brought the message from Uman’s maskilim. Twenty miles out of Breslov we met Rabbi Mordechai of Teplik, who told the Rebbe how anxiously Uman’s inhabitants were awaiting his arrival. The Rebbe replied, “Isn’t everything ours? As our Sages teach: A person must say, ‘The world was created for me!’” He noted the irony that Rebbe Nachman and Reb Noson were traveling to the house of Nachman Nathan (Noson) and that he would be reciting Kiddush there, in a place where antipathy for religion was so great that care was taken never to mention the name of God.

After a brief stop in Ladizin, where many people came out to greet the Rebbe and accompany us to the town’s outskirts, we traveled on. The atmosphere inside the coach was heavy with anticipation. The Rebbe spoke of many things, most of which I cannot recall–although I am confident that Reb Noson can. I do remember the Rebbe discussing Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s remark that the Torah would never be forgotten by the Jews. He explained that the source of Rabbi Shimon’s surety was his own mystical revelations, namely the Zohar, on account of which the Jewish people would always achieve tikkun (rectification) even in the darkest exile. After elaborating on this, the Rebbe cryptically concluded, “But now there is a ‘Nachal novei’a mekor chokhmah – A flowing brook, a wellspring of wisdom’” (Proverbs 18:4).

I was dumbstruck and began shaking. I had no idea what the Rebbe meant by this. But from the intensity of his expression, and the sheer awe in Reb Noson’s face, I could sense that he had just entrusted us with one of the most extraordinary insights in all of God’s wondrous creation.

Reb Noson later explained to me that the Rebbe’s words revealed the main reason he was moving to Uman, and in fact, also his ultimate mission in the world. The initial letters of the phrase “Ir Vekadish Min Shemaya Nachit – A holy angel came down from Heaven” (Daniel 4:10) spell ShIMON, a reference to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. The initial letters of the phrase “Nachal Novei’a Mekor Chokhmah” spell NaChMaN. The Rebbe was teaching that like Rabbi Shimon and the Zohar, he, Rebbe Nachman, and his revealed teachings in the Likutey Moharan would ensure the Jewish people’s spiritual survival and tikkun. A tidal wave of atheism and secularization was engulfing the world. The Rebbe was telling us, continued Reb Noson, that his move to Uman was the next step in his battle against the Haskalah movement which had made inroads in our region of Eastern Europe, threatening to cause rampant assimilation and a massive flight from Torah. It was the next step, too, in his efforts to instill faith and a desire for teshuvah even in those who were most distant from God. Just as there was an “Ir ve-kadish min shemaya nachit,” there is now a “Nachal novei’a mekor chokhmah,” a wellspring of wisdom and guidance, and the brook from which the Jewish people’s ultimate redemption will flow.

As night approached, rain began to fall. We were nearing Teplik, where the Rebbe had a following. I suggested to the Rebbe that we might stop there. But the Rebbe wanted to keep going, and so we continued our journey until we came to a small village where we stayed the night. Many of the Rebbe’s followers from Teplik came there to greet him.



Wednesday, May 9, 1810 (5 Iyar 5570):

After davening, we set out on the final leg of our journey. As we approached Uman, the Rebbe spoke about the death and concealment of the tzaddik. He told a story about how the Baal Shem Tov had once come to a city where there were souls that had been waiting for their rectification for over 300 years. “I do not recall all the details of the story,” the Rebbe said—but he did explain that the only way these souls could receive their tikkun was if the tzaddik (in this case, the Baal Shem Tov) were to die.

In hindsight, the Rebbe’s mention of that story makes sense to me. He later told us that he had chosen Uman as the place where he would die and be buried because of the many souls there awaiting rectification, particularly the souls of the martyrs killed in the Haidemack massacre forty-two years earlier. Reb Noson told me that on the day before the Rebbe died, he said, “For a long time now they’ve had their eye on me, to get me here. There are not just thousands of souls here, but myriads upon myriads…souls that did not know me at all are awaiting the tikkun I can give them.” No wonder he was so excited when the messenger of the maskilim brought him the news that he was expected in Uman.

Later that same day we arrived in Uman. As we alighted from the coach I could not help but think about the past few days. In my mind I ran through the amazing events of Shabbat, and then replayed each part of our momentous journey. There was the sense that something special had ended, but that something far greater, and more timeless, was about to begin.

OU Torah Tefillah Shemoneh Esrei

Bracha #12 – Birkas HaMinim (Heretics)
Rabbi Jack Abramowitz

As we will see in Mitzvah #433, there is an obligation for us to try to get closer to God through prayer. To help us fulfill this, our Sages established a prayer to be recited thrice-daily, corresponding to the prayers of our Forefathers. This prayer is called the Amidah (because it is recited standing); the weekday version is also called Shemoneh Esrei, the Eighteen Benedictions (although a nineteenth has since been added). Once a week for nineteen weeks, we will review the contents of the 19 blessings of “Shemoneh Esrei.”

The twelfth bracha, against heretics, is the one that was later inserted, with the result that there are nineteen blessings in the “Eighteen Benedictions.” According to the Talmud in Brachos (28b), this blessing was added in the days of Rabban Gamliel in response to an increase in heretics. According to Rashi there, “minim” (heretics) refers to those who deny the Divine origin of the Torah. The term minim is commonly, though not exclusively, used by the Talmud to refer to early Christian sects, who were more comparable to today’s “Messianic Jews” than to modern Christianity. (That is, they identified as Jews, albeit with ideas anathema to Jewish thought, rather than as a fully-independent religion.) Since this philosophy posed a threat to the nation, the bracha was instituted as an anti-missionary move. It refers, however, to any individual or group espousing heretical ideas within the community, such as the Sadducees. (In fact, it is the Sadducees who are mentioned by name in the Talmud where Rabban Gamliel requests that such a bracha be composed, though this may be a later edit.)

The blessing was written by Shmuel HaKatan in response to Rabban Gamliel’s request. Shmuel HaKatan is also cited in Pirkei Avos for quoting Proverbs 24:17, not to take joy in the downfall of one’s enemies. One can see the relevance of this sentiment to one charged with the unpleasant duty of composing a prayer against other Jews, even those who constitute an existential threat.

The prayer starts by requesting that “slanderers” have no hope. The heretical minim, being of Jewish background, would slander the mainstream Jews to the authorities. The bracha continues by asking that all evil disappear in an instant and that God’s enemies speedily be cut down. Next, we ask that God uproot, break, chop up and bring low all doers of evil, soon and in our lifetimes. We conclude the blessing praising God, Who breaks His enemies and humbles the wicked. However, due to centuries of censorship, many variations of this bracha exist.

Despite the addition of this nineteenth bracha, the prayer is still called “Shemoneh Esrei” from a desire that this blessing be rendered unnecessary and removed, restoring our daily prayers to the originally-intended eighteen.




😀

613 Mitzvoth class tonight with Bayli. We're still discussing the "positive" commands. Tonight we will address #181 the Axed Heifer; #182, 225 Establishing Six Cities of Refuge/Law of Manslaughter; #183 Assigning Cities to the Levites; and #184 Removing Sources of Danger from our Habitations.
We read the entries, discuss them, read what Rabbi has written about them on his blog and discuss some more.
Join us, please.

Sefer HaMidot - Rebbe Nachman

Anger


1. One who guards himself from anger, those who hate him have no dominion over him.

2. Also, he will dwell in his house, and others will not lodge in his place.

3. Through anger, one is humiliated.

4. Do not lose your temper and you will not sin.

5. Anyone who becomes angry; his wisdom and prophetic ability departs. And even if greatness has been decreed for him in Heaven, he is brought down from his greatness.

6. The Holy One Blessed be He loves one who does not become angry and one who does not harbor resentment.

7. A hot-tempered person's life is not worth living.

8. Also, all sorts of hell reign over (or afflict) him.

9. And is overcome with hemorrhoids (in the shape of figs).

10. The Divine Presence is not important to him.

11. And he forgets his learning.

12. And increases stupidity.

13. And it is certain that his sins are more than his merits.

14. Anger after eating is very damaging (t.n. See also #37).

15. The anger of a woman destroys the house.

16. Through anger one's flesh becomes emaciated.

17. It is conducive for [avoiding (or possibly: calming)] anger, to eat bread in the morning (t.n. See also #37).

18. One who does not complain about people will be esteemed in peoples' eyes.

19. Through falsehood comes anger (t.n. See also #21).

20. One with a bad temper should make a pledge and pay it immediately. Through this the anger will be annulled from him.

21. One who gazes at the face of a liar comes to anger (t.n. See also #19).

22. Through jealousy one comes to anger.

23. Through anger one incites upon oneself harsh judgments.

24. Through anger one sires foolish children.

25. Through anger, one's lifespan is shortened.

26. It is conducive to (dispelling or preventing) anger, that you lower the haughty.

27. When you don't have anger, through this you will be able, with your gaze, to humble the arrogant.

28. One who has a bad temper, it is certain that he loves honor, and even all the commandments (good deeds) he does, he only does for honor.

29. One who is angry at an honorable pauper, it is as if he taunted G-d.

30. Also, he becomes mute.

31. And becomes a leper.

32. One who breaks the vice of anger will merit a good name.

33. Sometimes anger comes through (bearing) a heavy burden.

34. Through anger comes depression.

35. Anger comes through hisbodidus (seclusion) not carried out appropriately.

36. Through choler, there is no peace.

37. Through eating, anger departs (t.n. See also #14 & #17).

38. Guard yourself from anger on a day in which you had a salvation.

39. Through (giving) charity, anger is annulled.

40. Through anger, a woman has difficulty in childbirth (or having children).

41. Anger frightens a person.

42. Anger damages eyesight