“We Shall Ascribe Holiness to This Day”

 

The titular quote is derived from a Hebrew Piyyut (liturgical poem), “Unetaneh Tokef,” recited by Jews on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

As a child, I remember joining my father to attend Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services. I also recall the tears rolling down my father’s cheeks when this prayer was recited. It was then that I began to grasp its solemn meaning and magnitude.

In it, Judgement Day is described in a succinct and powerful way. The depiction of G-d, the ultimate judge, sitting on His bench examining our deeds and ruling on our fate for the coming year, sends shivers through the body and soul of the faithful.

Though some suggest that the piyyut was written before the tenth century C.E., others attribute it to Rabbi Amnon of Mainz (11^th century).

According to the account, Rabbi Amnon was urged by the bishop of Mainz to convert to Christianity. He requested to be given three days to consider the bishop’s offer. Soon thereafter, Rabbi Amnon regretted not having refused the proposal for apostacy promptly and did not appear at the bishop’s place on the agreed time.

When he was finally brought, against his will, in front of the bishop, Rabbi Amnon requested that his tongue be cut out for not refusing to convert instantly. Instead, his limbs, which did not bring him on the set time, were chopped.

When he was brought to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah, he asked to pray and at that time composed the piyyut.

Despite the intense message of this prayer, G-d is still described as the merciful judge who recognizes the weaknesses of human beings. The poem juxtaposes the ephemeral nature of our existence as opposed to G-d’s perpetuity. Unlike G-d who has “no limit to His years,” “no end to” His years and “no measure to the hosts of” His “glory,” we, humans, are “like dry grass, a withered flower,” a “passing shadow and a vanishing cloud.”

G-d, the benevolent, understands the fragility of humans and as the piyyut suggests does provide us with hope and allows us to avert the harsh decree of the penalty of death. He, as always, gives us another chance.

According to our wise sages, three things can avert G-d’s ruling, “prayer, charity and repentance.” (Bresheet Rabba 42:12). All three, according to Rabbi Yudan, in the name of Rabbi Elazar, are mentioned in one verse, “When My people, who bear My name, humble themselves, pray [prayer], and seek My ways [charity] and turn from their evil ways [repentance], I will hear in My heavenly abode and forgive their sins and heal their land.” (2 Chronicles, 7:14).

May we have a good year, Am Yisrael and fellow Jews, a year of repentance, abundant with good deeds, forgiveness, and the healing of our fractured Jewish Homeland.

Be Beautiful

 

We have entered the Ten Days of Awe which is the period between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

For many Jews, it means days of introspection and re-evaluation of their demeanor during the previous year. It is a solemn period which many take very seriously.

For the sake of our People and the future of our Jewish Homeland, I sincerely hope that many do examine their actions, improve their deeds and continue to choose Life.

Yes, I know, Life is not always what we want it to be. We are faced with choices, good and bad, daily. To exist in this world is to survive unfair choices. But are we here just to exist? No, we are here not merely to exist or survive, we are here to Live. I believe that everyone of us, born into and reared in our wonderful Jewish tradition and legacy has the power to make a difference. All they need to do is want. Some,  unfortunately, are forlorn and need guidance and support along that journey.

The notion of providing people with tools, that I had only recently discovered, to help them through the “road less traveled” first  sprouted in me when I lived in New Zealand.

It was the early years of this century. I had just gone through a very traumatic business experience which nearly destroyed my life. I could not indulge in the status of victimhood for too long. I had a daughter, whom I raised single handedly after I divorced her father, to support. I needed to be strong for her.

In the midst of the chaos, an inner voice told me to join a gym and engage a personal trainer. That was one of the most meaningful milestones in my life.

Two years later, I participated in a body sculpting competition and won first prize in the senior category. As I stood there holding the trophy, I felt the inner glow of timeless beauty. The discovery of a new layer in me, one I had never known existed was overwhelming. A decision sprouted in me to become a personal trainer in health and fitness and a Life Coach. I chose to focus on maturing women, a segment in our population which was rather neglected.

Towards that end, I set up my own business, “The Art of Living Well,” (http://www.bat-zion.name/html/the_art_of_living_well.html) (http://www.bat-zion.name/artoflivingwell/)

The underlying concept of my practice was to help women peel off dusted inner covers and bring out the hidden beauty in each one. “Be Beautiful” became my motto.

To emphasize that goal, I even ordered a personal license plate for my car which reads:   

Some might read it as “Be Buttfull” but that would be dichotomous to my mission. After all no one hires a personal trainer to increase the size of their behind…….

Beautiful, not just pretty (for that we have beauticians and plastic surgeons) is what I was hoping to help bring out in them.

I was not always successful. However, those lives that I was able to touch cloaked  me with optimism. It was wonderful to see them discover the divine present of their inner essence, to see frozen rivers in them gradually melting away. The wonderful process through which they learn to be grateful for the small miracles in their lives and to be witness to them starting to live as they had never lived before was the greatest reward.

Discovering one’s inner beauty, the one that has been part of us since time immemorial, is the key to healing ourselves. We need to stop looking at each other with superficial eyes. We are each a universe with similar desires, dreams, and urges.

If we learn to recognize the beauty that is hidden in each of us and bring it out, we could light our Life’s path that will help guide us through the forests of reality and reshape the terrain of our lives. It will put us in charge of our destiny.

Amazing, as I am writing these lines, I hear the Shofar blowing loudly outside my home (because of the pandemic, it was sounded outdoors, this year) for Am Yisrael to hear. I can feel my eyes welling and the pressure of the growing lump in my throat. I cannot help but see the symbolism in the timing of it all.

The word Shofar originates from the same root of the word “improve.” The Shofar is blown to remind us that on Rosh Hashanah we need to improve ourselves and our ways. It is believed that if one makes a wish during the sounding of the Shofar, that wish will come true.

Remain beautiful, dear people and get better at it. That is my wish.

Shanah Tova Am Yisrael and fellow Jews.

 

The Affliction of the Soul

As we approach Yom Kippur, each year, the day seems to bear a more solemn and weighty substance, at least for me. As I grow older, the meaning and purpose of this monumental day for Jews, finally sinks in.

Why so?

On the lighter side, it is the only Jewish Holy Day where Jews do not eat (yes, I have known that, of course, but just realized it).That, we must admit to ourselves, sets it apart from all others. Anyone who is even slightly familiar with our Jewish traditions, knows that, on some Holy Days, we are commanded to rejoice, and food is always part of that joy. That is not the case on Yom Kippur.

On the more serious side, though, on this day, we are expected to atone and are charged with the duty to: “…afflict your souls … For on that day G-d shall provide atonement for you to cleanse you from all your sins before the L-RD.” (Leviticus 16:29-30).

It is not only the consumption of food that we are required to desist from on this day, though.  Chazal, our wise elders, ruled that we assume upon ourselves other self-inflicted discomforts on Yom Kippur. These include the prohibition to wash, anoint our body with oil, wear leather shoes or engage in sexual activities.

Moreover, in Leviticus 23:29, the Torah even prescribes a punishment for those who do not adhere to engaging in what it refers to as the “affliction of the soul.” It states: “For whatever soul it be that shall not be afflicted in that same day, he shall be cut off from among His People.”

One may ask and rightfully so, since all those forbidden pursuits seem to be associated with the physical or bodily realm, how come refraining from them is referred to as “affliction of the soul?”

In the world of Jewish/Hebrew wisdom, one can find different approaches to the dualism or unity between the Body and the Soul.

Genesis 2:7 establishes the dualism between the two with the soul being more eminent: “Then the Lord G-d formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life’ and the man became a living being.” What this verse is telling us is that without the soul, that spark of G-d, in us, our body is worthless. Ecclesiastes 12:7, likewise, echoes the superiority of the soul and its divine eternal essence as opposed to the body which is temporal and merely serves as the vessel for it: “and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.”

Whereas the body attempts to indulge in its desires and wishes of the here and now, the soul which, according to those two versesת belongs to G-d, constantly strives, to free itself, rise and reconnect with its Creator. In this light, the body is viewed as the enemy of the soul and its constrictor.

Only when the body is tamed and subdued can our Divine spark unshackle itself from its earthly constraints and reach its contentment and self-actualization. This concept of controlling and subduing the body to the Spirit is common in many faiths and creeds.

Yom Kippur is a day when we celebrate the fabric of our Jewish core, its importance and its magnitude. It is a time when we are expected to grant those attributes of G-d within us the power and the authority to reset our inner compass.

Only through the prescribed physical depravations listed for Yom Kippur, can our Soul, our Spirit prevail and be free to rise above our immediate needs into higher dimensions. In that realm, it can peacefully reflect upon and evaluate our past actions and the actions of others, learn their respective lessons and open the door to a tomorrow which finds us better and more deserving of the Gift of Life.

Wishing everyone an easy fast and may we all be inscribed in the Book of Life.

That Second Most Important Day

This article is dedicated to my students, past, present and future

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” – Attributed to Mark Twain

The gift of Life is a miracle though there are those who may not always perceive it as such.  As Life unfolds itself, many are in search for its meaning, the question of “Why was I born and what is my purpose in this Life?” preoccupies many. Philosophers, writers, poets and great minds as well as ordinary people have often pondered over it through the years. Some have offered answers, others gave up. Though the answer may not have always been the one many yearned for, finding out the “Why” has certainly changed their life forever.

For me, the day I discovered the “Why,” was when my life turned into a bliss.

It happened one cool morning, in October 1973. Earlier that year, I was accepted at Tel-Aviv University to commence my studies towards an undergraduate degree in Philosophy and Greek Studies (not my first choice, English was. Why I was not accepted to the English Department is a topic on its own and for another article. I was devastated for rwo reasons. The first, English Literature is a great love of mine. The second, I needed to work for a living. From experience, it also occurred to me that I had never come across an ad in the “wanted Section” of any paper, an ad which read “A Philosopher needed”).

As many of you may recall, October 1973 is when the Yom Kippur War was raging. The academic year at the university was postponed until further notice. It was a difficult and uncertain time both nationally and personally.

Since I could not picture myself sitting helplessly with folded hands during the long days of war, I decided to enlist some of my skills and contribute, in my own small way, to the war effort. I elected to volunteer at a local school and teach our young ones in place of those teachers who had to join the army in defense of our Homeland.

That was when I experienced the second “most important day” of my life for the first time. As I was watching those beautiful innocent faces, living under the shadow of war and at no fault of their own, in the only place that Jews could call “Home,”  I suddenly realized “Why” I was born. I was born to be a teacher. 

The following day, I called Tel-Aviv University, informed them that I would not attend their institution and applied to a nearby Teachers’ College where I was accepted and where I eventually earned my Teachers’ Certificate.

I have never looked back.

Since then, I have had many fulfilling such “most important days,” each reaffirming what I discovered on that dreary, sad day in October 1973. And for that, I can only thank those who have made that day more and more significant, meaningful and soaked with great learning curves with each passing year: my wonderful students.

You, dear, precious souls, have enriched my life immensely!

I Love you all and send you a big "Thank you" wherever you are. 🇮🇱 　 🇮🇱

Collective Responsibility

                                                                                    

Kol Yisrael arevim Zeh Bazeh, (all of Israel are held responsible for one another) is an important tenet in Talmud, one of the pillars of the foundations of our Jewish nation.  I was first introduced to it when I was six years old.

It happened one year when my father took me along with him to synagogue on Yom Kippur.  I had just acquired my reading skill and I was proud that I could read the prayers on this very sacred and awe inspiring day.  One of the prayers associated with this day is the Ashamnu (we have been guilty) confession.  The prayer lists in alphabetical order all possible sins and wrongdoings one can commit, transgressions for which we are asking G-d to forgive us.  

For the benefit of those who are not well versed or familiar with the Hebrew language, here is another brief lesson to try and help make the meaning of this prayer clearer and more significant.  In Hebrew the suffix “nu” at the end of a verb is used to indicate “we.”

One can only imagine my surprised look as I stared at my father after reading these words.  “But dad,” I said to him in a naïve childish manner, “I have not committed all these sins, why do I have to ask for their forgiveness?”

My father caressed me with his eyes, patted my head and answered, “That, my child, is part of what being Jewish is all about.  You are part of Am Yisrael. Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh Bazeh. We have collective responsibility for each other, one we assumed upon ourselves when we accepted G-d’s Covenant at Arvot Moav before we entered Eretz Yisrael after we had left Egypt.  That Covenant,” my father explained to me, “demanded that each member of Am Yisrael would commit to a collective responsibility and would see to it that their friends  would also maintain their commitment.  You may not have committed all these sins,” he tried to reassure me, “but even if one Jew did commit them, it is our responsibility to ask for their forgiveness because we are responsible for each other.”  I felt proud, so proud.  To be charged with such an important task made realize, already then, how forged and cemented my fate is with the fate of my people.

“There are a couple of other lessons that this prayer teaches us,” my father continued his lecture about the important message of the Ashamnu prayer as we made our way back home from the synagogue.  “The first is that one cannot repent until after one has committed the crime and after one recognizes and acknowledges that he or she has erred. In other words, one cannot ask forgiveness for a crime one has not committed.”  I recalled that the prayer was written in the past tense. The transgressions listed were conjugated in the past tense.

“There is second and just as important a lesson to this prayer,” my father went on as he was holding my tiny hand in his.  “The Talmud teaches us that one who shames (makes white להלבין פנים) the face of his fellow has no share in the world to come.  We have to be careful not to embarrass our fellow publicly. And that is another reason why we use the word ‘we’ rather than ‘I’ in this prayer. We want to avoid shaming those among us those who might have indeed erred and committed one of these transgressions.”

That lesson still resonates with me.  All I ask is, if a Jewish girl was able to master it at the tender age of six, why cannot SOME of our Jewish Israeli leaders and SOME of our rabbis master it at their advanced age?  Why can they not understand that collective responsibility for any transgression can only be taken AFTER it was committed and not one second before?