Rabbis' Blog

As a preteen, I was in a workshop at school where a volunteer stood on the edge of the table wearing a blindfold and the rest of us lined up next to the table ready to catch him to see whether the blindfolded volunteer was ready to free-fall off the table into our hands. The workshop leader explained that trusting friends, family or teammates is more than having faith in their ability to pull through for you. It means having the highest confidence in their dedication and loyalty to you that you would be willing to free-fall, even without seeing them, knowing they will catch you. 

There is a profound difference between faith in G-d and trust in G-d. Faith is a set of beliefs that can be nurtured in any person with the right education and guidance. Trust is something every individual needs to work on. Can you act upon the truths you believe even when reality seems to contradict them? This week’s parsha gives the perfect example of this.

The parsha opens with laws about agriculture in the Land of Israel. After six years of plowing, planting and harvesting, the seventh year was a national sabbatical and no fieldwork was allowed. This mitzvah is called Shemitta.

You don’t need to be an economist to realize what this means. In a society where almost one hundred percent of the industry is agriculture and import was not a thing, a full year of no fieldwork meant that the entire region would run out of food which is bad news.

The faithful Jew is now in a theological bind. On the one hand, G-d is the omnipotent and eternal Master of the universe and the Torah represents G-d’s will and wisdom. On the other hand, forcing an entire nation to lay down their plows and sickles for a year means they won’t have any food, and people must eat. What gives?

Amazingly, the Torah seems to imply that any rational human being is expected to ask this question. “And if you should say, "What will we eat in the seventh year? We will not sow, and we will not gather in our produce!"

G-d does not chastise the questioner for not having sufficient faith. Instead, the Torah continues: “Know then, that I will command My blessing for you in the sixth year, and it will yield produce for three years. And you will sow in the eighth year, while still eating from the old crops until the ninth year; until the arrival of its crop, you will eat the old crop.”

Simply put, G-d is saying “Trust me!” Even though the mitzvah of Shemittah seems like the entire economy will go into free fall with no hope in sight - G-d has it figured out. If you follow these rules properly, and express your trust in G-d, the crops preceding Shemitta will sustain you for many years and you will be just fine.

A friend opened a small business several years ago and took G-d as a partner by committing to giving one-tenth of his earnings to Tzedaka as obligated according to the Torah. He confided to me that he once needed to send off his ten percent to charity, but realized that if he pressed “send” on that check, his business bank account would be empty. After an agonizing few minutes he decided to send the money anyway, and G-d would need to take care of the rest. Sure enough, by the end of the week, he landed new clients completely unexpectedly and his account has never been empty since. That’s called trust in G-d.

It’s not easy, but nurturing our trust in G-d is the best way to ensure a life of success and serenity.

“Time is money,” they say. But is it true? Sure, you can make money at any given time, but equating the two is very shallow. Consider these differences between time and money: Everyone has access to any given moment in time, whereas money is not equally available. No one can take away time from you whereas money can be stolen. And finally, money can be accumulated, whereas time is exactly what it is and there is no way to grow it.

Now that we’ve established time is not money we can appreciate why Judaism insists the most important commodity is time and the most important Jewish attribute is valuing time. Here is what I mean.

In this week’s parsha we learn that on the second day of Passover Jews living in the Holy Temple era harvested an “omer” measurement of barley, baked it into matzah, and brought it as a wave offering in the Holy Temple. From the day that “omer” measurement of barley was offered we are obligated to count seven weeks, a total of forty-nine days, and the fiftieth day is the festival of Shavuot - the day we commemorate the Giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai and our conversion to Judaism.

This seven-week process is called “Sefirat HaOmer - Counting of the Omer” and today we are at the midpoint of the counting period. Since in Judaism the day begins in the evening, we recite the blessing and count “Sefirat HaOmer” right after dark. On the first evening, we said “Today is one day to the Omer.” On the second day, we said “Today is two days to the Omer.” Last night we said, “Today is twenty-four days, which is three weeks and three days to the Omer.” See all the details here.

Most mitzvot involve the usage of a holy object such as a Torah scroll, a pair of Tefillin, or a Mezuzah. Others are intentional actions done with specific objects such as eating in a Sukkah, eating Matzah on Passover, and the like. But during the seven weeks of “Sefirat HaOmer” we are counting the days. Since we count it at the beginning of the 24 hours and have no idea how the day will turn out, we are not even counting the good things we did that day, just the time itself. What is the purpose of counting the days, and how does this process prepare us for Mount Sinai and our conversion to Judaism?

The Torah seldom describes the virtues of our Jewish heroes, but about Abraham the first Jew the Torah declares, “Abraham was old, coming in days.” A literal reading of the words “coming in days” can be understood to mean “He had all of his days with him.” Abraham was awesome because he filled his days with goodness, devotion, and service. Not even one day of his life was wasted. He appreciated the value of time, the gift of time, and the responsibility he had as the custodian of time, and used every moment to its fullest. This is a character trait every Jew is expected and empowered to emulate.

Counting the day as it begins allows us to focus on the amazing gift that has just been granted to us, and be motivated to use it wisely. Doing this for seven weeks sets us on track to making this habitual, preparing ourselves to be our best version of the first Abraham, G-d’s ambassador to bring divine goodness and clarity to the world.

Antisemitism is a huge problem, but not a new one. Given the obnoxious protests at numerous institutions of “higher education,” I’m getting an uptick of questions about it. Here’s my advice in dealing with one aspect of the antisemitism issue.

The recent trouble seemed to climax during Pesach as millions of Jews gathered around the Seder table to commemorate our liberation 3,336 years ago. An event meant to be a true expression of our current freedom, as the Mishna states, “In every generation, one is obligated to behave at the Seder as if they themselves were redeemed from Egypt.”

In the middle of the story, after describing G-d’s promise to Abraham that after a designated time of suffering his descendants would be redeemed and inherit the Promised Land of Israel, the Haggadah instructs us to raise a glass of wine and say this:

Vehee She’amda! This is what has stood by our fathers and us! For not just one alone has risen against us to destroy us, but in every generation they rise against us to destroy us; and the Holy One, blessed be He, saves us from their hand!

How does this statement enhance our feelings of freedom at the Seder? The fact that our enemies rise against us to destroy us in every generation is not a cryptic sentence. Almost every page of our history tells the story of how nations and individuals sought to do just that, and tragically, millions throughout the ages suffered terribly as a result. Are we really free?

Reading the text carefully we’ll notice the text says our enemies wish to destroy us - not only to kill, hurt, rob, or shame us. They seek to destroy us as a unique people with a divine mission. G-d promised Abraham that no matter how anyone succeeds in hurting Jews, they would never manage to destroy them. Some try to do it violently and others politely, but these are different tactics with the same goal.

Recently this idiotic cancerous hatred was somehow dignified with the official term “antisemitism,” but don’t be fooled by how sophisticated it sounds. And it’s the polite, non-violent, sophisticated-sounding antisemitism that is most common and can in ways be the most devastating.

An incident involving two young people attending my Seder this year can give perspective on what we can do about it.

While having lunch in a school cafeteria a Jewish student overheard a group of students discussing the war in Israel, parroting typical talking points (no need to elaborate) with no intention of hurting anyone in the room. At some point she felt very alone and vulnerable as a Jew hearing what they were saying; the devastating feeling of experiencing subtle and even unintended antisemitism.

But then, as she looked out the window she saw a volunteer walking down the adjacent walkway wearing a large noticeable Kippa on his head. This Kippa-wearing fellow was at my Seder and heard the story from this student for the first time. “You have no idea how proudly Jewish you made me feel,” she said to him. “The way that silly conversation made me feel didn’t matter anymore. I was reminded how I’m part of something very special.”

The joyful Vehee She’amda reminds us that in all circumstances, we as Jews are truly free. The good news is that we - as a people with a divine mandate - will never be destroyed, and as individuals, we can protect ourselves from the polite-sounding vitriol and hatred we may encounter. By remembering who we are, and having confidence in G-d’s promise to us, we inoculate ourselves, our families, and our communities from the spiritual, mental, and psychological devastation antisemitism seeks to accomplish. By being proud Jews and openly observant of our Judaism we neutralize the poison of polite antisemitism.

The better news is that antisemitism is only temporary. Our prophets foretold about the era of Moshiach, when “the wolf will lie with the lamb,” wars, jealousy, and competition will cease and hatred will be no more. Let’s do our part to make it happen now by increasing in Torah study, doing more mitzvot and inspiring everyone around us to increase in acts of goodness and kindness.