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Rabbi Yossi's Blog

Welcome to Rabbi Yossi's Blog; where you can expect to find thoughts on current events, Torah learning and Jewish spirituality. And of course, some good Jewish humor.

Rest? That’s for after 120

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You know what I find the most remarkable part of this week’s Torah portion? 

The very first word: “Vayelech” - “And he went.”

Consider this: It’s the last day of Moshe’s life. He’s 120 years old, sharing his final words with the Jewish people, passing the mantle to Joshua. 

The Torah could’ve opened with all kinds of words. Instead, on Moshe’s last day on earth, it chose one that means growth, movement and continuously refusing to settle.

That’s truly remarkable. Even in his last hours, Moshe wasn’t slowing down. He was still moving forward. Still growing.

He wasn’t willing to slow down even in his very last moments.

When I was growing up in Melbourne, there was an elderly chassid named Reb Nochum Zalman Gurewitz.

Short and feisty, he was an elderly man with a snow-white beard and a fiery energy. He was always on the move. He kept a full schedule of work, study, and prayer until the very end.

I remember someone once told him, “Reb Nochum, you’re pushing too hard. Slow down, take a rest.” His reply? “Resting we can all do after 120.”

That’s the primary message of the High Holidays: Growth. One more step in the right direction. As long as we’re alive, we must keep moving forward.

Next week Wednesday night/Thursday is Yom Kippur. The question we should all be asking ourselves is: How have I grown this past year - and how will I keep growing in the year ahead?

Everything else is commentary.

May we all be sealed in the Book of Life.

Warning: This post might make you think

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In the spirit of full disclosure I’ve got to warn you - you probably shouldn’t read this post. 

It's safer that way. 

Because if you actually think about what I’m about to say, you might have to, you know… change something. And that’s messy.

No, seriously - many people are perfectly comfortable cruising along in their life and prefer not to think too deeply about the direction they’re headed. 

I don’t blame them - it’s risky to think. 

Because let’s face it, if we actually take an honest look at where we’re headed, we might realize we need to hit ‘recalculate.’ 

And changing course? That’s hard work.

Still here? Fine. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Here’s the all important question no one likes asking: Why are we here?

There are various answers given but they generally fall into two categories: For ourselves (enjoy life, achieve something) or to serve a higher purpose (society, G-d). 

But the truth is that neither answer alone is entirely correct, both are true to a degree. 

This is where it gets difficult, because these two values seemingly contradict each other. Nonetheless we need to live our life with a balance that reflects this dichotomous reality. 

Think about it this way - if you are a healthy individual,  most likely you take care of yourself; you eat and sleep and generally take care of your physical self. 

You probably take care of yourself in more refined ways too; developing your character, advancing your career, learning new things. 

But all the accomplishment of self development is within a limited self-centered existence. 

And no matter how successful you are in that realm, you’re starving yourself of the deeper, more profound - and in many ways, more important for survival - purpose-centered part of existence.

Our role as human beings - and especially as Jews - is to do more than take care of ourselves. 

We need to think about the greater reason that we’re here, to serve a higher purpose: To make this world into a G-dly place. 

Every altruistic mitzvah that we do, every time we put on tefillin or light Shabbat candles, help another person or study Torah, we take another step toward achieving this goal.

There’s a counterintuitive dimension to all this; the more we invest on the purpose centric side of our life, the more complete we become in the self-centered element as well. 

So if you feel your life has become a dreary jumble of divergent responsibilities, take some time to invest in your purpose. 

Infuse your life with more value and significance and see the positive effects in every part of your life.

Thundering silence

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When the world feels noisy, divided, and unstable;

when we experience too many reminders of how fragile peace is and how loud the voices of anger and violence can be;

it’s easy to feel distraught and it’s natural to wonder: what can really make a difference?

When Aharon the High Priest experienced the sudden, tragic loss of his two sons, the verse records his reaction - just two Hebrew words: “Vayidom Aharon” - “And Aharon was silent.”

 

But his silence was not the silence of despair. It was the silence of strength, of inner faith, of connecting to something higher than words could ever reach.

After the Supreme Court ruled against prayer in public schools and following the attempted assasination of President Ronald Reagan, The Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, the most influential Jewish leader of the 20th century, encouraged silence as an antidote.

More specifically, he urged America to adopt a moment of silence in schools: a daily pause for children to reflect quietly, guided by their parents, on life’s deeper purpose.

Unlike spoken prayer, which can spark debate, a silent pause belongs to each student.

No teacher can impose beliefs, no peer can intrude.

Every child is free to connect in their own way - to values, to meaning, to G-d.

The Rebbe pressed for it to be universally adopted because giving children a habit of silence, reflection, and higher purpose is one of the strongest safeguards for a brighter, safer future.

And this practice is not only for children. In Elul - the month of reflection before Rosh Hashanah - it's particularly appropriate to find our own “moment of silence”:

To pause, to step away from the world’s noise, and to ask ourselves, "What am I living for? How can I bring more light into the world today?”

And you can make a difference for others too. In addition to taking on your own daily moment of silence as spiritual preparation for the new year -

Encourage your child’s school, local leaders, or representatives to implement and encourage this policy. Even one voice can make a difference.

Whether in schools or in our daily lives, when the world seems to be unraveling, there is something we can do.

It is deceptively simple, but extremely powerful: Carve out silence, and fill it with purpose.

As we approach the New Year, let us take moments of silence - not filled with emptiness, but with meaning, strength, and hope.

And may they open the way to a year of peace, safety, and revealed blessings.

Light in the Shadow of Darkness

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Today the Jewish and Gregorian calendars line up in a striking way.

9/11 is remembered as a day of darkness. This year, with the recent wave of political violence culminating in yesterday’s tragic assassination of a political leader, the mood feels even heavier.

And yet, on the Jewish calendar, today is Chai Elul - the 18th of Elul, meaning “the life of Elul.” It marks the birthdays of two giants of Jewish history: the Baal Shem Tov and the Alter Rebbe.

Their leadership came after a particularly brutal period of Jewish suffering, yet they infused new life and vitality into the Jewish world. Their teachings continue to inspire and uplift to this very day.

Chai Elul reminds us that even in the darkest times, sparks of light can be found. 9/11 was a day of horror, but it was also a day of extraordinary courage and selflessness.

We, too, can be those points of light. By caring for others, offering a kind word, or extending a helping hand, we uncover the goodness in our world and empower others to do the same.

Discrimination is good

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Yes, discrimination is good.

In fact, it’s an essential part of life. You literally can’t do anything without it.

Of course, I’m not talking about discriminating against people. I’m talking about discrimination when it comes to values, ideas, life choices, and priorities.

Life itself is built on discrimination. At its core, discrimination simply means recognizing and understanding the difference between one thing and another.

This week's Torah portion instructs regarding ensuring that an accessible roof must have appropriate safety railing installed.

In addition to the actual mitzvah, the verse is reminding us of something deeper: the importance of discrimination.

There are certain values and ideals that we need to create a protective barrier around, ensuring that they remain at a distance. Other ideas we can and should allow to influence us.

Every choice in life is also saying no to other choices.

Before we can evaluate which life choices to embrace and which to discriminate against, we have to ensure we have an appreciation of what’s truly valuable in life.

Then it’s imperative to discriminate and determine, does this choice align with my values and priorities?

When the Torah instructs us regarding the fence around our roof, it’s reminding us regarding the importance of discrimination.

The railing around the roof is not just a safety measure - the Torah isn’t simply sharing building codes.

It's a reminder that we must be deliberate in how we live, discriminating wisely between what lifts us up and what could pull us down.

And for the record, not making any choice regarding how to live and just “going with the flow” is a choice too. Just not a good one.

So as we step into the second week of Elul, heading toward Rosh Hashanah, it’s time to sharpen our discrimination.

Build some fences. Tear some down. And make sure the life you’re saying yes to is actually the one you should be living.

Looking for older posts? See the sidebar for the Archive.