A Weekly Byte...From Isralight (Devarim 5766)

SPARKS by Rabbi David Aaron, Founder and Dean of Isralight

We Are Never Alone Walking and Talking with the Divine And in the wilderness where you have seen how that the LORD your G-d carried you as a man does bear his son in all the way that you went until you came into this place ----- Deuteronomy 1:31

Even though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you, G-d, are with me. ----Psalms 23

Really!!-- The Zohar Vol. 2 pg. 57

In the world at large, if your boss sends you on a mission, he generally stays at the office, while you go off to accomplish the assigned task. But that's not the case when G-d sends you on a mission. G-d comes along.

This is the meaning of the verse in Psalm 127: ?If G-d doesn't build your house, your labor is for nothing.?

Now you might think that if G-d is going to build your house, why do you have to labor at all? The Psalm is saying that you must labor nonetheless, but if you don't invite G-d into your work, your efforts will be worthless. You will not have the energy to achieve your task. You can choose to build a house; you can haul the bricks and the mortar, but, without G-d Who is the power source, your house will never get built in a meaningful way.

This is what's unusual about our mission from G-d. The One who sends us, joins us in our mission. But if we don?t acknowledge His presence in our work and process, then we are powerless to truly succeed.

The daily focus of our life should be all about inviting G-d to join us in the performance of our mission.

A famous story tells about a man who dreamt that he saw his whole life?s journey as footsteps in the sand. Sometimes there were two imprints -- his and G-d?s. But, during the parts of the trek that were most difficult he saw only one set of footprints. He complained to G-d, ?G-d, you promised me that you would always accompany me in my journey. How is it that during the most difficult times in my life you disappeared?? G-d responded, ?I have always been with you. The reason why you only see one set of footprints is because during your most difficult times I carried you. Those footprints our mine.?

It is especially helpful to remember this in the most challenging moments.

During times of pain in your life have you ever asked, ?Why is G-d doing this to me? Why is G-d hurting me??

There is no answer to that question because it is the wrong question.

This question is based on a perception that there is a G-d, an invisible Being, floating out there in outer space, and you are down here on earth, separate and removed from Him. However, Kabbalah says that there is no such G-d and there is no such you. The true you is the soul and the soul is none other than a part of G-d.

Therefore the real question is, ?Why is G-d doing this to an aspect of Himself??

Now I admit that this question also has no answer, however, I think there is great comfort in knowing that you are not alone in your pain, that G-d is never out to get you, that whatever you are going through G-d completely shares. Remember, whatever G-d puts you through is also what He puts Himself through because you are a soul, an expression of Him.

If you embrace this consciousness then you will draw upon Divine strength and find great courage. You will rise to the occasion, overcome the challenge confronting you and experience the triumphant of the spirit.

We Are Not Alone

No tear ever shed in the history of humanity is without Divine participation. We are never alone, although we can choose to forget that truth by kicking G-d out of our awareness, out of our struggles and challenges.

When we pray to G-d, we are not simply saying, ?G- d, remove all these problems and make everything easy. Snap your cosmic fingers make it all better.? When we pray to G-d, we're actually consciously inviting G-d into our struggle. In this way we empower ourselves to fulfill our mission in the world.

I think this is one of the most important ideas of Torah and Kabbalah -- we're not alone in our struggle, in our challenges, in our pain. G-d is always with us. G-d is rooting for us all the time.

In Kabbalah the forces of evil are called sitra acher, ?the other side.? One of the tricks of evil is to try and convince you that G-d is on the other side. You're on one side and G-d is on the other side. He's not on your side. He is against you.

This is a lie. G-d is always on your side. No matter how low you feel you have fallen, G-d is always on your side. To feel this, all you got to do is invite Him in.

A child once asked his father, where is G-d? His father responded, ?Where ever you let Him in??

The teachings of the Torah and Kabbalah focus on letting G-d into your process, inviting G-d into your challenge, and recognizing how much G-d wants to be involved and is involved in your life, because your true inner self is the soul, a ray of G-dliness.

We are incredibly important to G-d. And G-d is always with us. If we don't choose to believe that, then -- although we are important to G-d and He is always with us just the same --we won't experience the joy of that truth.

G-d is never out to get you. G-d is not on another side. G-d is always on your side. G-d has a vested interest in you ? because you are a soul, a aspect of Himself. You are not G-d but you are an expression of G-d. Although G-d is beyond you, an aspect of G- d is manifest within you.

G-d is not some magician who ludicrously snapped his finger and created us with no vested interest in what would happen to us. G-d is not some force transcendent of our process, removed from our pain and struggle, stoically looking down at us while we grapple with life in this world.

When you realize that G-d is part of your life as a loving a parent to a child, you will discover your holiness; you will discover your ultimate meaning and significance. When you serve the ultimate, then you'll feel part of the ultimate. And when you realize that you're part of the ultimate, then you will know G-d in every step of your journey.

Rabbi David Aaron Author of Endless Light, Seeing G-d and The Secret Life of G-d

------------------------------------------------------------ Small Tastings of Torah, Judaism and Spirituality Rav Binny Freedman, Director

Portion of Devarim

This week?s weekly byte is dedicated to the memory of a true Lion of Judah: Binyamin ben Daniel ve?Yehudit, Benji Hillman, h?yd, of blessed memory, a Company Commander in Golani?s elite Egoz unit who was, is, and will always be, my cousin.

Sleep; such a precious commodity, and so hard to come by those days; I remember it was a glorious day, that Shabbat morning, and truth be told, if I had been left to my own devices, I probably would have slept all day. But he, of the mischievous eyes and a shy smile, could not leave well enough alone. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his older sister Abigail, who could not have been more than six, and they were impatiently waiting for me to wake up so I could pad into the kitchen and reach high in the cupboard where their mother kept the Shabbos treats.... Even then, there was no stopping Benji when he was on a mission...

So many Shabbatot I ?d arrive at the Hillman doorstep, often unannounced from the army, with a pile full of dirty wash and a pair of dusty boots, and I always got that trademark shy smile from Benji when I walked in the door...

I remember how they loved to pick through my army gear, and how I had to hide my M-16 from two curious mischievous boys... and I remember how fine a picture they always were: Benji & Shimon, walking to shul with their father Danny...

But most of all I will always remember his wedding; we didn?t know it then but the entire family got together and had a chance not just to see Benji one last time, but to see him at the highest moment of his life. At a wedding, all the different pieces of a person?s life come together - the family and friends, the army buddies and the high school friends, the uncles and aunts who bounced you on their knees, and the cousins who knew your dreams from your earliest moments.

It was a storybook wedding; such a fine picture they cut, the handsome young Israeli officer in slacks and a white shirt, dancing with his young beautiful bride; it could have been a movie, only it was so much better than a movie, because it was real. They had been going out for so long, many of his friends did not even know Benji without Ayala in the picture, and the palpable joy that was etched into her smile was infectious.

There is a moment etched into my mind forever, of Benji, who decided to surprise his bride with a song that was part of their history together, and grabbing the mike began to sing, serenading her to the amusement of the hundreds of guests gathered around. And the image of him, with his shy smile and twinkling eyes standing in the middle of the dance floor, as everyone, and particularly Ayala, his bride, simply reveled in the moment, stayed with me long after the wedding was over. And I remember thinking: this is a poster...

And then, three weeks later, we had a chance to get together with the entire family all over again, only this time there was no dancing and no smiles, no twinkling eyes and no tinkling glasses. And Ayala was not smiling in a magnificent white wedding dress, she was broken, in black; Israel?s latest young widow.

I have lost many friends to military funerals over the years, some of them my closest comrades, but it has never been family. There is something about losing a cousin that is entirely different, because it?s not just a fallen soldier, its parents and siblings, uncles and aunts, cousins and grandparents and everyone in the entire family. It?s every family get together that we will ever have together, every wedding and Bar Mitzvah, funeral and Bris; and even every family barbeque and birthday; none of it will ever be the same.

It?s every time I will ever see a shy smile like that anywhere, and every little boy jumping up and down in his uncle?s lap, and every time I look into my cousins? eyes and know that they are not as bright as they used to be because he, Benji was that light...

And that is one family, and one boy who became a man who is now legend. Multiply that by twenty thousand families, who all share that terrible price that seems too great to bear.

So how do you go on? How do you keep smiling? On the one hand, the question defies response, and yet, more than anything Benji represented to me the way our best and brightest have always responded: A shy smile, a determined look, a hug across the shoulders, and a load that has just gotten heavier.

Little Benji became a Company Commander in one of the elite commando units of the Israeli army, but he didn?t talk much about it; he was not a talker; he was a do-er.

Which is why it is so interesting that this week, as his family is just getting up from the shiva, we will read the portion of Devarim, words, which are so named for the first verse:

?Eleh ha?devarim asher diber Moshe el kol Yisrael be?ever hayarden bamidbar...? ?These are the words Moshe spoke to the entire people of Israel on the other side of the Jordan River, in the desert...? (Devarim 1:1)

This week we will have to find the words, for that part of life for which there are no words... Which is especially appropriate given that Benji grew to be someone who represented in all that he was the idea that actions speak louder than words.

There is an interesting idea that stems from a particular question in the portion.

?Va?Omar aleichem, ba?et ha?hi? leimor: lo? uchal le?vadi se?et etchem.? (And I said to you at that time, saying, ?I cannot carry you alone?.? (1:9)

Now the word ?leimor? (saying), is an interesting word which at first glance seems to be superfluous. For example, in its most common usage ?Va?yedaber Hashem el Moshe leimor?, ?And G-d spoke to Moshe saying?, many commentaries understand it to mean that G-d was not just speaking to Moshe, he was speaking to Moshe in order that Moshe pass on the message to the rest of the Jewish people. So the word ?leimor? (saying), seems to be all about conveying the message and passing on an idea.

But in this instance (Devarim; 1:9), Moshe is already speaking to the Jewish people; so whom were they meant to convey it to? Furthermore why was this particular message so important that it was worth passing it on to anyone? Indeed, why was it important for Moshe to let the Jewish people know that they had become a burden at all? Especially considering that Moshe is standing here on the banks of the Jordan River, speaking to the second generation of Jews about to enter the land of Israel; why did they need to know their parents had been such a burden all those long years ago?

Rashi, noting this question seems to attempt a response, suggesting that the word leimor here is Moshe?s attempt to express the fact that these words are not coming from him as a complaint, but rather from G-d Himself. But of course, this just makes the question even more challenging! Why was it so important for the people to know their parents had been a burden, that G-d Himself wanted Moshe to express this idea?

In order to understand this, we need to know what it was that made the Jewish people a burden in the first place. The commentaries are very clear on this matter (including Rashi here...): this burden is a reference to the fact that the Jews were standing before Moshe from morning till evening asking him to act as judge for their questions and legal cases, and that this was apparently too much for one man to carry this load, so eventually a system of judges was set up so that people could bring their grievances before local and eventually regional and even tribal judges, before those rarest cases that were too difficult for anyone else could be reviewed by Moshe himself.

But this does not really resolve our difficulty, as Rashi points out. One wonders why Moshe, who was G-d?s vehicle for splitting the Sea and bringing the ten (or most of the ten) plagues on Egypt, could not easily have been G-d?s vehicle for judgement of the entire people as well? And while Rashi seems to suggest that it was not the actual judgment that was too great a burden, but rather the consequences of a mistaken judgment, we are still left wondering why this was such a significant message that G-d wanted Moshe to convey it to the entire Jewish people?

Rav Moshe Feinstein, in his Darash Moshe , suggests a different way of looking at this question: Pehaps it was not that Moshe could not shoulder this burden, but rather that it was important that one man should not be responsible for such a burden on his own, precisely because this is a burden that needs to be shared. It was not that Moshe was unable to take on this challenge alone; it was that G- d did not want him to. But then we are left to struggle with the language that Moshe uses: ?I cannot carry you alone?, which seems to imply that Moshe could not shoulder this burden alone...?

Indeed, Rav Moshe suggests that ?I cannot? need not refer to a physical inability to complete a task, but rather a spiritual or psychological inability instead. Once Moshe knew it was not Hashem?s will for him to do this, he was simply incapable of doing it, end of discussion. And perhaps the reason Hashem did not want Moshe fulfilling this task alone was not because he couldn?t but rather because other people should.

It is a measure of a person?s character to see what they are simply unable to do.

At Benji?s funeral one of the many speakers was his Brigade Commander, who had become quite fond of this young company commander whom he described as a rising star, clearly headed for battalion command and endless possibilities.

On the evening Benji fell in combat in Lebanon, the Brigade Commander walked into the command center and heard Benji?s deputy leading the men, and directing the operation, at which point he knew something was wrong, because in his words, Benji was simply unable to be in such a situation and not lead his men into battle. And not out of pride or foolhardiness, but simply because he knew that in such moments it was his job, and what he simply had to do.

Over three thousand years ago, Moshe was teaching his people a lesson: we need to all share in the challenges that lie ahead: in the day to day, as well as in those trying times when leaders are called to carry the rest of us forward in the most trying of circumstances.

Benji Hillman, of blessed memory, died leading his men into battle and fell as he lived with actions that speak far louder than words ever could. And he leaves behind him a challenge and a legacy: few are those in this world who merit to live up to such a bold and shining example of what Jewish leadership is all about: carrying the Jewish people and the State of Israel on his shoulders.

Yet neither are we free to desist from trying to live up to whom he was and the lessons he leaves behind. It remains to us, all of us, to find the strength, each in our own way of ensuring that at the least, the sacrifices he and all the young men like him are making in these terrible days of Israel?s newest battles in the war we have been sadly fighting for so long.

May his family, Judith and Danny, Abigail, Shimon and Ayala, be comforted amongst the mourners of Zion, and may the love we will carry for Benji forever be a small source of comfort in these their darkest moments.

Yehi Zichro? Baruch

Shabbat Shalom, from the Old City of Jerusalem

Binny Freedman Isralight | P.O. Box 880943 | Boca Raton | FL | 33488-0943