Category Archives: growth

R Hillel Goldberg on the true meaning of Shavuos

The Intermountain Jewish News has a great essay by R Hillel Goldberg, titled “Shauvuot-Something Real, But Not Concrete” available here.

An excerpt:

Shavuot celebrates the giving of the Torah. If one does not delve into the Torah, its meaning is meaningless. One may approach many Jewish holidays at the last minute. Not Shavuot. One must live with the Torah, breathe it, find joy in it, be troubled by its sometimes seemingly inaccessible teachings. One must occupy oneself with the Torah, struggle with it, let it color one’s mind and soul, in order to grasp it.

Yizkor

This past Pesach was the first time that I, along with my brother, recited  Yizkor for my father a’h. While the text of Yizkor is moving, the idea behind it is that we should donate to a charity in memory of a loved on, as a merit for their soul (I donated to my shul and also to an organization dedicated towards Jewish self-growth).

Being able to say Kaddish daily, in all honesty, helps keep me thinking about my father.  Minyan attendance has always been a struggle for me, but I’m hanging in there.  For those who have moved past period of aveilus, I can see how saying Yizkor, helps them keep the memory of a loved one “alive”.

For me, I’ve found that dedicating a mussar chevrusa in my father’s memory has also been comforting. It’s a measurable way that I know I’m doing something.  Just last week, someone donated a gift certificate to a Jewish book store to me, with the intent that I should purchase a Pirkei Avos (Ethics of the Fathers) to learn in memory of my father. I was touched by this gesture especially because the person who made the donation has asked remained anonymous. 

I’m sure that whatever charity dontated, mitzvos performed, or learning that one does in zechus of a neshama allows one to connect with the memories of those who has gone on to the Olam HaEmes.

Building towered foresight isn’t anything at all*

Photo of the Price Tower from Wikipedia

Nisan (aside from being my Hebrew name) is the month of that Hashem revealed himself.   From a mussar point of view, there’s the whole chametz = Yetzer Hara, soul-searching thing that some of us might undergo.  It’s also spring cleaning, when we go though closets, boxes, and even old posts that have been sitting in Blogger Dashboard’s as drafts.  This is not one of them.

If I was a sports fan, I would write about how working on bettering yourself isn’t really for a Monday morning quarterback.  I, however, did spend way too much time in high school listening to what use to be called “college radio”.  The phrase “Building towered foresight isn’t anything at all” has been buzzing in my head for weeks.   Mostly because while working on several middos (derech eretz and emes) that involve interactions with others, I’ve come to see that it’s really easy after the fact to say, “I really should have handled the situation better”.

Navigating how to approach people requires being able to have the creativity to come up with multiple outcomes of possible reactions.  To only have a perspective to see one outcome or “Building towered foresight” might make you feel that you have achieved the right goal of your avodah on a middah, but I think only seeing one outcome limits you.  When speaking with family members, co-workers, or teachers it’s important to try to see several possible outcomes and adapt as needed.

This is also true when dealing with one Yetzer Hara.  No chiddush here, I just happen to be re-reading The Juggler and the King for the first time in about 17 years.

* The title of this post is from the song “Fall on Me” by R.E.M.

Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh on Novardok

One of the things that constantly amazes me about R Itamar Schwartz and his Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh seform is that he is willing to pull and blend Torah from a variety of sources and derechim.  Again, this is a major reason I humbly think his seforim speak to our generation.


For example, in the second volume (both in chapter 1 and 2) he brings down an important educational concept from the Alter of Novardok, Rav Yosef Yozel Hurwitz.  In the Alter’s sefer Madregos haAdom he explains that there is a difference between understanding and acknowledging something on an intellectual level and actually experiencing it.  The best example of this that comes to mind would be the difference between reading about the beauty of a traditional Shabbos meal and actually being part of an enjoying a Shabbos meal.


Rav Schwarz applies this teaching of the Alter of Novardok in regard to Emunah and D’vekus (faith and attachment) in relation to Hashem.  Later, in the same volume (chapter 18) the author writes this:

“…rare individuals would roll naked in the snow or break the ice to immerse in the ice cold water of a lake or pond.  Still others practiced a strong form of self-criticism…They might fall into constant bitterness.  This will damage their avodah, because without joy, there is nothing!”

The ikar, the main point, is that unless the end result (or the journey) is, in fact, simcha, joy, then you are not getting the whole picture…!כי כשאין שמחה – אין כלום   The question I often have is, “How do I get there”?  It’s the ability to extract different strengths from a particular derech that really the gadlus of Bilvavi.  In an information age, when many Torah observant Jews can have access to many different seforim, multiple shuls and schools in a community, different types of Jewish newspapers and weekly publications (I’m not even getting into what’s available onilne), it’s hard to distinguish between what might be substance and what might be filler.


While some argue that Novardok was a type of Mussar that was only applicable for a particular time in the world’s history, I’m glad that the Bilvavi is exposing aspects of it to a new generation.  Don’t worry, I’m jsut as happy when I see a quote from the Baal haTanya as well.  One way that I know I am listening to a true talmidei chachamim or a tzaddik (and I don’t throw around that term) is that when they quote sources it will be from a variety of sources.
“Ben (the son of) Zoma said: Who is wise? He who learns from all people, as it is said: ‘From all those who taught me I gained understanding’ (Psalms 119:99). -Pirkei Avos chapter 4 mishna 1


For other posts dealing with the Novardok Yeshiva and school of Mussar click here.

Mussar À La Breslov

I am always happy when I read something that makes me feel good about myself and what my potential is.  This is one of the things at attracted me to mussar seforim.  That knowledge of our potential also attracted me to the teaching of Reb Nachman of Breslov.  While I own a number of Breslov seforim, I’ll be the first to say that I’m no where near the level of calling myself a chossid of Reb Nachman.  I do, however, get a lot of mussar and chizuk from his teachings.  


R Lazer Brody recently posted a fantastic essay on the importance of Believing in Yourself.  It always amazes me that Hashem allows me to hear a d’var Torah or read something that happens to be exactly what I needed at that time.  R Brody’s post was one of those things that I needed to read today.
Here’s a taste of what he says:

Observant Judaism is also like a war. The Yetzer, or Evil Inclination, has an array of weapons and forces at his disposal, to deter and discourage a person from making Tshuva, or to break the heart of a person who’s trying to effectively become a ben- or bat-Torah. If you believe in yourself, you’ll be able to wipe the floor with the Yetzer.

The whole essay in all of its glory can be found here.

A defining moment

Recently, in what started out as a casual (not that I really believe in these things) conversation with the head of local adult education program, I was asked what I’m my interests are in regard to learning.  I mentioned that I  ‘enjoy’ mussar and had for many years.  I was then asked how I got “into Mussar”?  I smiled and responded that it was more like mussar got into me.


This conversation brought me back to what I might loosely call a “defining moment” in my Yiddishkeit, while learning in Israel in 1990.  I had spent my freshman year at YU and now I had an opportunity to actually learn Torah “all day” for the upcoming year.  It was the end of my first day in a yeshiva in Israel, and our Rabbeim had left for evening, thus leaving about 40 fresh off the plane guys in the beis medresh with several of our madrichim and a few kollel-types.  On the schedule was something called “Night Seder”.


I’ll be honest, I had no clue what this was.  A nice amount of guys left our yeshiva (which back then was in Gilo) and took a bus into town.  The dozen or so left sort of just hung out.  I looked around and saw that a few people were learning b’chavrusah and some were just “reading”.   I decided to start checking out the books in the yeshiva’s small library.  I happened upon a small book called “The Path of the Just” .  I had never heard of it (not that I really had heard of much aside from Rashi, Rav Hirsch, and R Aryeh Kaplan) and decide to pick it up.



As most people, the first sentence hit me with its’ humility and deep insight into how to open up to someone:

“I have written this work not to teach men what they do not know, but to remind them of what they already know and is very evident to them, for you will find in most of my words only things which most people know, and concerning which they entertain no doubts.”


Wow.  I kept reading and reading and reading.  I quickly realized that I wasn’t one of those people who didn’t really know all the things the RAMCHAL expected me to know.  That was fine with me, I was willing to learn.


I had always been interested in psychology and why we do what we do.  That aspect of insight in the life of a Torah Jew was, as a 19 year old, something that I hadn’t formally come accross during my development in Torah observance.  The whole idea of becoming a better person was an area of Judaism that I had thought about but never really read anything about, until now.  I felt my world sort of opening up and I quickly began to see the “bigger picture” of a whole different aspect of Avodah.  It was a classic Peak Experience,  as Abraham Maslow would have put it.


Eventually when I reach the end of this sefer I was again, amazed.  It ends with this pasuk from Tehillim:

Let Israel be happy in its Maker, the sons of Zion rejoice in their King” (Psalms 149:2)


The end result of growth should be that we have a relationship of simcha with Hashem.  Simple, yet deep.  That evening and the subsequent ones spent reading and learning Mesillas Yesharim with several different people helped give me an anchor and a direction that I hadn’t thought possible. As I look back, it may have been a defining moment for me.

Opening my heart

Towards the end of the Amidah we say:
פְּתַח לִבִּי בְּתורָתֶךָ. וּבְמִצְותֶיךָ תִּרְדּף נַפְשִׁי
May my heart be open to your Torah.  May my soul pursue your Mitzvos.

I’m on round two of going through the second volume of the Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh.  A few nights ago I came across this:

If the Torah he has learned and the prayers he has prayed until today have not brought him to the state of feeling in his heart that Hashem is a real perceptible entity Whom it is pleasant to live with and cleave to, his Torah and mitzvos were only in the mind, but the heart was not functioning properly. (chapter three)

Yeah, this one brought me to a screeching halt.  This is the real deal.  If I’m don’t feel like davening, washing negel vasser, making a bracha, lighting neiros, learning, dressing tzenuah or doing chessed, it’s a problem.  What if I do those things and still feel nothing?  It must be that my heart isn’t open. 

Each generation has their own specific Yetzer Hara.  Not putting enough heart into Yiddishkeit just might be ours.  There’s a cure, though.  It might not be for everyone, but it’s worth a try and has helped me over the past year and a half.  
 
The gemara in Kiddushin 30b says: Hashem has told Yisrael, “My children, I have created the Evil Inclination, and I have created the Torah as an antidote against it.”  Again, each generation has their own specific Yetzer Hara.  With that in mind, I think it’s safe to type that each generation is given specific seforim and teachers that are vessels of Torah containing the antidote we need against the Evil Inclination of our times. 

Much as been written about the gadlus of the Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh seforim and their author, Rav Itamar Schwartz.  I am, by no means, a talmud of his or his seforim.  I’m simply more of an armchair or between-aliyos reader.  I’m constantly amazed, even in the English, how clearly he gives over important concepts that I have seemed to have forgotten over the years and brings to light new mind-blowing ideas with such tangible everyday life examples.  Even more importantly that opening my mind, my heart has begun be be opened again, as well.  It’s been a slow process, but when I put in the effort, I’m a better Jew.

Building A Sancuary in the Heart isn’t overly intellectual, hippy-trippy, or feel-good-and-feel-frummer writing.  Its’ success is due to the fact that the seforim speak to each person differently.  In fact, the whole approach to Rav Schwartz’s teaching is very different that that of other Rabbeim.  His Torah has been made available to everyone via the web.  The seforim, mp3s and videos are all there, just waiting for you.  If you don’t feel like the Jew you were several years ago, when Mitzvos and the idea of being close to Hashem seemed to be something you yearned for, then this might be the antidote you need