‘One More Year!’: G-d’s Mandate on Rosh Hashanah

Man #1: What are you doing?

Man #2: I’m putting a yard sign in your lawn. I’m running for mayor.

Man #1: Something’s wrong with your yard sign. Why is a piece of cheese cake floating above your face?

Man #2: I did a survey. It turns out that people love cheese cake more than anything else except their spouse – and in some cases more than their spouse. Once I cover this town with yard signs, voters will associate their love of cheesecake with my candidacy. I’ll win in a landslide!

Man #1: Shouldn’t people be voting for you because they like your ideas, your 10-point plan?

Man #2: I have a 10-point plan. See my brochure? Each point is a different color.

Man #1: It’s very colorful … You know, there’s another season happening now besides election season. The High Holidays are just around the corner. G-d is, kind of, running for reelection.

Man #2: Really? I haven’t seen Him out here. What’s He running for? School Board?

Man #1: No, He’s running for king.

Man #2: Why does He have to run for king? You inherit that office by birth. I saw this on Netflix. The king was coughing up blood, then he got real sick and died. His oldest daughter, who was only like 20 or something, became queen automatically. She got a crown fit to her head and her own credit cards and a Mazda.

Man #1: On Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish people must willingly accept G-d’s commands before His Will to be King is revealed for the new year. By renewing our commitment to be His loyal subjects, we crown Him King once again.

Man #2: But a king doesn’t need the love and admiration of the voters to rule. If you’re king and you decree that everybody has to wear earmuffs, even in the summer, and ban split pea soup throughout the kingdom, nobody can impeach you. The electorate just has to take it. Tough beans.

Man: #1: But you’re not describing a king. What you’re talking about is a dictator.

Man #2: Look, I’m not giving a civics class. King’s are fat; dictator’s have mustaches. Otherwise, we’re splitting atoms.

Man #1: You mean hairs.

Man #2: Yeah, hairs to the throne.

Man: #1: A dictator rules without the love of the people. He forces them to do what he wants even if what he’s asking of them is totally disdainful. A king, on the other hand, is loved by his subjects. They want to do what he asks of them. They want to be his subjects, and they want him to be their king. His will is their will.

Man #2: Well, now that you mention it, on that Netflix show the queen was awfully sensitive to how the people thought of her. She was giving these really lousy speeches at first. Then this editor comes around and tells her to stop sounding like a snobby so-and-so and start quoting Led Zeppelin songs in her talks and stuff like that.

Man #1: G-d wants us to serve Him – out of His love for us. He doesn’t want to dominate us like an autocrat. A dictator’s subjects live in fear. They fear the dictator as a dog fears a stick. The king’s subjects also fear him but with a fear based on will and reason better described as “reverence.” When we love the King, and want to serve Him and even know Him, the King responds as our loving sovereign.

Man #2: Well, I guess that’ll work until He runs again. For me that won’t be for another four years.

Man #1: But you have to win this election first.

Man #2: I’m confident. I’ve raised the most money, I’ve done the most polling and I have the best yard signs. Now it’s just a matter of watching the votes come in and moving my favorite knick-knacks into City Hall. What I'm going to have, in the tradition of Abe Lincoln, is a “government of the people, by the people, for the people” – just like it said on Lincoln’s bumper stickers.

Change the World

I waded through the crowd clutching my Tefillin bag, searching for someone to put Tefillin on. The demonstrators were protesting a Mexican restaurant caught selling unsustainable tacos.

“Hey, Rabbi, where’s your sign?” a boy shouted at me.

“Let’s see what your sign says: ‘Sustainability. Renewability. More Hot Sauce.’”

“You look familiar,” the boy said.

“I’m Rabbi Isaac Zilbershtein, the spiritual leader of Congregation Bnei Jacob Yankel here in Laredo, and the director of the Charles and Edna T. Zohar Kabbalah Center of South Laredo.”

“I’m Gary Weinstock, activist and friend of the golden hamster.”

“I see you’re inspired by environmental causes.”

“Not really. I’m just doing this as a favor for a friend who hates tacos. What really gets me going is technology.”

“You think it’s evil?”

“Yes. Like how on Gmail they group emails together. You get an email from your friend Steve, and the the next thing you know you're talking about your rash with his Aunt Ida. Or on Facebook how they try to get you to make friends with some guy you’ve never seen before who reminds you of your cousin Finbar, the one who has the  nasal spray addiction. I want to lead a revolution against such tyranny. I want to change the world.”

“Would you like to change the world right now?” I asked him.

“Do I have to give up tacos?” he said.

“No, just put on these Tefillin.”

“OK, but how’s that going to change the world?”

“Put them on, then I’ll explain.”

I began wrapping the black leather strap around his left arm. Just as he finished saying the Shema prayer, we heard a terrifying crash. We rushed over and found a statue of the inventor of the taco, Juan Ortega Bell, lying on the ground in pieces, toppled by some of the more zealous protesters.

            We were the only ones there. All the other protesters (and rabbis, if there were any) had fled. As I looked down at the face of the taco’s creator, I heard the wail of a police car grow louder and louder. Two policemen wearing sunglasses, one skinny, one burly, burst out of a police car and snapped handcuffs on our wrists.

            Back in the car, the skinny cop said wistfully, “I remember when I was a little boy, I would climb up that statue and rub his nose for extra tacos.”

            The burly cop read us our Miranda rights.

            “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law …”

            “Yes, with my luck,” Gary moaned.

            “Don’t worry, G-d will find a way to lift us out of our predicament,” I assured him.

            “Hey, you never told me how putting on Tefillin can change the world,” he said.

“Before you were born you were given a G-dly Soul and an Animal Soul,” I began. “The G-dly Soul was sent down here to transform the world into a holy place. But the G-dly Soul can’t change the world by simply waving a wand.”

            “Why not? It worked for Harry Potter,” Gary pointed out.

            “You see, the G-dly Soul is housed within the Animal Soul and the body. To do a Mitzvah, like wearing Tefillin, lighting Shabbos Candles or eating Matzah the night of Passover, the G-dly Soul must employ the power of the body. And to harness the body’s power, the G-dly Soul must enlist the Animal Soul, which animates the body.”

            “So what do the body and the animal soul gain from the Mitzvah?”

            “The divinity of the Mitzvah descends on the Animal Soul and the body, as they put on Tefillin or light Shabbos Candles.”

            We arrived at the police station. The burly policeman put us in the same cell, where Gary and I continued our conversation.

            “OK, the Animal Soul and the body are affected when someone does a Mitzvah, but how does that change the world?” Gary asked.

            “The G-dliness introduced into the physical word by the performance of Mitzvahs throughout history will become revealed in the era of Mashiach,” I explained. “Then the material world and its resources, through which all 613 Mitzvahs were accomplished, will be transformed to good and remade into a dwelling place for G-d.”

            Just then a young woman entered the station. She had taken a video of the whole taco desecration: the fall of the statue; the protestors leaving; Gary and I arriving on the scene. She had heard of our arrest and was kind enough to come and testify to our innocence. The policemen, now realizing what had happened, told us we could go free. I called the musical director of my synagogue, Cantor Wasserman, to pick us up.

            Cantor Wasserman dropped Gary off first. Gary started up the walkway to his parents’ house then turned around.

            “Rabbi, I promise I’ll do all 613 Mitzvahs before I see you again,” he declared.

            “Gary,” I said, “I have a saying. Change the world one Mitzvah at a time.”

            Folks, it’s time to say goodbye. I think we all learned something from our little adventure. Gary learned that there’s another way to generate change. I learned that I shouldn’t get excited every time a statue falls. And the police learned that above them is “an eye that sees” (Ethics of the Fathers 2:1). Well, that’s the whole enchilada. I mean, the whole taco.

G-d of Corona

Two men wearing surgical masks are sitting on a bench outside a suburban Walmart. One man sits next to a shopping bag containing a large box of disinfecting wipes, a bottle of Lysol, 48 Ultra Strong Super Mega Rolls of toilet paper and a copy of the CDC’s “Coronavirus Disease (COVID 19) Guidance for Cleaning and Disinfecting Public Spaces, Workplaces, Businesses, Schools, and Homes.” The other man has a bag holding three 63-liter bottles of Mountain Dew, a large pouch of Crispy M&M’s and the current issue of “Guns and Ammo.” They are sitting 4-and-a-half feet apart.

Man #1: Do you know who’s responsible for this virus? The Devil ... Do you want some Mountain Dew?

Man #2: No thanks. I say it’s G-d.

Man #1: What? The deaths, the unemployment, these stupid masks. They’re from G-d? No bad comes from G-d. G-d is Good. That’s why he’s called G-d. The Devil is Evil. That’s why we call him the Devil. And Beelzebub … Well … Can you think of a more evil-sounding name than that?

Man #2: I still say it’s G-d. G-d created the world. He’s responsible.

Man #1: That doesn’t prove anything. Let’s say you’re the owner of Walmart. Someone was trying out some patio furniture at one of your stores, and they fell off and landed on their face and broke their nose. Now is that Joe Walmart’s fault?

Man #2: I think he’d probably lose a lawsuit. It happened in his store.

Man #1: “Probably lose.” Maybe it’s the patio furniture manufacturer’s fault – faulty furniture. Maybe the guy who fell off has done this before in other stores. He could be some kind of professional klutz. See, G-d created the “store,” but that doesn’t mean that everything that happens here is His fault. In most of these cases you’ll find that the Devil was involved.

Man #2: Okay, suppose you build Walmarts. You just finished building the premier Walmart in the United States. One night the whole store – the walls and the ceiling – collapses.

Man #1: And the sinks explode … I mean it’s a better effect.

Man #2: Now you’re responsible. You designed the store. You put it together bolt by bolt, all by yourself. See ya in court!

Man #1: Well, suppose someone slipped me some faulty bolts. Maybe a phantom    tornado flattened the store. Or the Devil himself huffed and puffed and blew the Walmart down. Just because I made the store that doesn’t mean I’m responsible when there’s a calamity.

Man #2: So you’re saying G-d isn’t responsible for the world He made.

Man #1: G-d created the world then left us in charge. Or He at least left some flexibility. Evil, for example, is its own separate branch – like the Congress.

Man #2: All right ... You’re making that Walmart. You want to do it right this time. You make your own bolts. Not only do you make the bolts but you give them existence. You create them from nothing.

Man #1: That’s impossible.

Man #2: Maybe for you, but not for G-d. G-d made the world but not like how you or I make a Walmart. Before He created the world there was no world. Only G-d existed. To create the world he had to make it exist. He made something that wasn’t there.

Man #1: Wait a minute. I’m making a fried peanut butter and banana sandwich. I got my bread, my jar of Skippy and a good-looking banana. Now, if I made this sandwich like G-d made the world, you’re saying I’d have to create all the ingredients out of thin air? Man, that’s tough. That’s not even wholesale.

Man #2: And that’s not all. When someone builds a Walmart, he can walk away once he’s done. A creation constructed from already existing materials can stand on its own. G-d, on the other hand, can’t just leave His Creation.

Man #1: Why not?

Man #2: Because if He did, it would no longer exist. He made it from nothing. He has to keep re-creating the world for it to continue existing. If he takes His “hand” off for one moment, the whole Creation reverts to nothingness.

Man #1: So what does that have to do with Mr. D?

Man #2: Mr. Dalrymple?

Man #1: No, the Devil.

Man #2: Since G-d’s control over the world – as Creator and never-ceasing re-Creator – is total, no creature enjoys true independence. Everything that happens in the world happens because G-d makes it happen. The Devil can’t cook up any evil by himself.

Man #1: Hold on a second. G-d is good. Are you with me on that?

Man #2: Yeah.

Man #1: How does bad come from G-d if He’s good?

Man #2: Whatever G-d does is for the good. The good might not be revealed to us now, but even evil is ultimately for the good. G-d created light and dark. Revelation and concealment. He employed both to create the world and to shape its destiny. In the end, concealment will beget revelation, darkness will become light.

Man #1: Now that we’ve defanged the Devil, what are we going to do about these masks?

Man #2: I’m going to keep my mask on.

Man #1: I’m taking mine off … Want some M&M’s?

Man #2: No thanks.