Two Thumbs Up for ‘Seder’

Richard: Hi, I’m Richard Elbert, movie critic for the Denver Post.

Ethan: And I’m Ethan Lichter, movie critic for the Cleveland Plain Dealer. We’re devoting tonight’s show to one of our favorite directors, Japanese auteur Kawasaki Fookiyama, and his new movie, Seder, which took first place at this year’s Cannes Film Festival in the category “Most Difficult to Understand.”

Richard: Fookiyama is known for his obscure, head scratching movies – and proud of it.

Ethan: Seder is no different. What other director would dare to make the shank bone a recurring image or pose as a central question, “Why on this night do we dip twice?”

Richard: But don’t worry. Ethan and I were both Fookiyama majors in film critic’s school. In the next hour we will guide you through Seder, giving you our opinions as well as helping you understand Fookiyama’s latest achievement.

Ethan: Seder tells the story of a modern nuclear family, the Weiners, conducting an ancient Jewish ceremony in the comfort of their own dining room.

Richard: Fookiyama usually leaves the key to the meaning of his movies in the first scene. So let’s watch as the boldly determined Mr. Weiner makes an intriguing announcement to start off the Seder …

Mr. Weiner: This is the bread of affliction that our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. Whoever is hungry, let him come and eat; whoever is in need, let him come and conduct the Seder of Passover. This year [we are] here; next year in the land of Israel. This year [we are] slaves; next year [we will be] free people.

Richard: Looks like Fookiyama’s up to his old tricks. What kind of crazy director would have his main character invite all the hungry and needy in town to dinner at his house – when he’s already safe and sound at his dinner table? If you really want to have guests, put some speakers in your car and drive around before the Seder. Or buy space on a billboard on a major highway: “Seder Tonight at The Weiners, Exit 3½ Miles, Across from Denny’s – DRINKS ON THE HOUSE!!”

Ethan: But the perplexity of Mr. Weiner’s monologue doesn’t end there. Tonight the Weiners celebrate the Redemption from Egypt. So why is Mr. Weiner touting “the bread of affliction” the Jews “ate in the land of Egypt” rather than the bread they took with them when they went out as free people? And while his family is supposed to be experiencing freedom the whole night, why does Mr. Weiner say that “next year” they will be free but “this year” calls them “slaves”?

Richard: That’s kind of a bummer.

Ethan: Richard and I would like to tell you that we figured out this movie. We didn’t. But instead of pretending like we did or turning this into a Godfather retrospective, we decided to invite one of the actors from Seder to explain it. Child star Sadie Weiner, playing herself as the Weiner’s preteen, worked closely with Fookiyama in making the movie, and she’s with us tonight … Sadie, tell us, what is Fookiyama really like?

Sadie: He’s a little … How do they say it in Japan? … Meshuga.

Ethan: But he is brilliant?

Sadie: Oh, yes. He almost beat my little brother in chess.

Richard: First off, that bizarre speech your father makes at the beginning of the movie. He invites the hungry and needy to your Seder, but the only people who hear the invitation is your family.

Sadie: My five-year-old brother, Zach, had some questions for my father before we started the Seder. So in that little speech my father was answering Zach’s questions.

Richard: Why don’t we watch that …?

Mrs. Weiner: Zach, take a tissue and blow. It’s not that complicated. I don’t want to have to look at that the entire Seder.

Zach: Dad, I don’t get it. If G-d took us out of Egypt and made us free, why do I have to go to school? Why are all the Arabs still trying to kill us? Why does it take so long to download New Super Mario Forever 2012? And if we went out of Egypt with the Egyptian’s wealth as G-d promised, why are there still poor Jews?

Mr. Weiner: This is the bread of affliction that our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. Whoever is hungry, let him come and eat; whoever is in need, let him come and conduct the Seder of Passover. This year [we are] here; next year in the land of Israel. This year [we are] slaves; next year [we will be] free people.

Ethan: That kid’s incredible. I don’t care what age he is. He’s getting my vote for best supporting actor … I’m still not sure, though, how your dad answered his question.

Sadie: My father’s telling my brother that the Redemption from Egypt wasn’t complete. We’re still transitioning from slavery to freedom. That’s why we continue to eat the bread “our fathers ate in the land of Egypt.” My dad’s not inviting poor people. He’s talking about us at the Seder. We remain in spiritual poverty as long as the complete Redemption goes unrealized. That’s why he acknowledges that this year we are slaves while vowing that next year we will be free.

Richard: Then if you’re poor slaves at the Seder, why is your mother using the good china? Why aren’t you all dressed like hobos or members of the World Wrestling Federation?

Sadie: We act and feel like free people at the Seder because the Exodus from Egypt, even though it wasn’t the Final Redemption with Mashiach, was the opening and channel to the ultimate freedom.

Ethan: And how did you get into the head of your character there with your mom and dad, your brother with his runny nose, and all the matzah?

Sadie: I pictured myself as a member of a nation that embarked on a chartered flight this night many years ago, a flight that’s been en route for a long, long time. I saw the plane finally arriving tonight – all of us completing the journey together.

Richard: Sadie, that was wonderful. I think you’ve answered all our questions. Thank you for helping us out tonight. By the way, what’s your next movie going to be?

Sadie: I’m working on a project called The Haftorah Lesson. It’s a prequel to Bar Mitzvah.

Richard: Interesting. Well, good luck, Sadie!

Ethan: So, Richard, what’s the final verdict on Seder?

Richard: I want to like this movie, but something’s holding me back.

Ethan: What is it?

Richard: I hate to say it, but I think Mrs. Weiner overcooked the brisket.

Ethan: Ohhhh! But other than that?

Richard: Other than that I thought it was great.

Ethan: Fookiyama baffles you. But you know, if you’re patient and pay attention, sometimes he can make sense – and be beautiful. He can even be fun.

Richard: You know what they say: “Kawasaki lets the good times roll!”

Ethan: Rich, I realize you were waiting the whole show to say that. I just wish you’d waited a little longer.

Shtroodle

            I was waiting outside Einstein’s office, thinking about the code name for the secret project, “Red Penguin.” It didn’t exactly move me. Why didn’t they ask me about it? I wondered. I would have at least picked a kosher bird.

            The door opened and he greeted me with that quizzical look of his: John Einstein, top scientist of the Orthodox Union of Scientists, the OU-s.

            Einstein had invited me there to discuss Red Penguin, of which I knew nothing, to prepare me for tomorrow’s press briefing introducing the secret project.

            “Come with me to the library,” he said. “There’s a book I want to show you.”

Einstein led me to the stacks.

“This book,” he proclaimed, pulling an old, dusty tome from the shelf, “changed how we see the world. Isaac Newton’s Principia proved once and for all, through experimentation and rigorous mathematics, that nature operates, not by magic, but like a machine. At least that’s what most people thought. Newton, himself, never perceived nature as a machine.”

“Wait,” I said. “Isn’t this the guy who discovered gravity when he got beaned on the head with an apple?”

“And I suppose you also believe he invented the Fig Newton?” he asked.

“Well, yes,” I admitted.

“As I was saying,” Einstein continued, “Newton refused to view nature as an autonomous network of impulses and responses. He insisted that G-d operates the universe. He even wrote a friend that he hoped this book here, the Principia, would serve as a proof of G-d’s existence.

“Newton wanted science to make G-d known, not conceal Him.”

            We then proceeded to a small laboratory tucked away in a corner of the building’s top floor. Einstein worked the lock on a safe at the far end of the lab. He produced a leather case and pulled out a laptop, which he placed on a nearby desk, facing me.

“You are about to experience the result of 23 years of work dedicated to proving the forgotten Newton right,” he declared. “G-d calls the shots. And science will show it.

“My invention detects the soul’s very will. It demonstrates that the spiritual world the soul inhabits exists.”

 “I don’t know,” I protested. “This is starting to remind of the time you accidentally launched those lab mice in that propulsion experiment.”

“Don’t worry,” he assured me. “Look at the text box at the top of the page. Think of something you want. Now blink … Okay, here’s your search result in .00027 seconds: “‘See like this New Delhi rabbi! Laser eye surgery could be for you!’  ... What was your wish?”

“An Indian restaurant under rabbinic supervision,” I said.

“We still have to work out a few kinks – it’s only a beta version,” Einstein insisted. “But once it’s ready, my new search engine will give the world its first glimpse of the spiritual world … I call it Shtroodle.”

“I think you better check with our lawyers about the name,” I said.

“Listen, there’s another reason why I’ve asked you here,” Einstein revealed, dropping his voice. “Ill-intentioned people want to thwart Shtroodle’s launch. I need your help.”

“Press release?” I said.

“No. A rogue group from the National Science Institute knows about Shtroodle,” he confided. “They’re trying to steal her and destroy the evidence that anything other than random chaos rules the universe.

“Someone posted a skull and crossbones on our Facebook page last week with the caption: ‘Red Penguin Is a Dead Duck’. And last night this building was broken into.”

“So, so what does this have to do with me?” I stammered.

“For security reasons I made no copies of Shtroodle,” he said. “This is the only version. I want you to take possession of Shtroodle and guard her. No one will suspect you. By accepting this responsibility you will be doing humanity a great kindness.”

“Don’t they have professionals for this kind of thing?” I protested. “Private security firms? Guys with unlisted phone numbers? I never hold on to anything! Give your magic search engine to me and it’s likely to end up with Al Qaeda!”

“We cannot trust Shtroodle to anyone on the outside,” Einstein insisted. “She is too sensitive!”

“Well, tell her to stop being so sensitive!” I shouted.

Einstein made a pouty face.

“Oh, all right. All right. I’ll do it for G-d and country … in that order.”

The next day I strode to the podium at the Union of Orthodox Scientists conference room to meet the press:

“I have a short statement and then I will take questions.

“This Monday at 8 pm at the Allegro ballroom of the Rodeway Inn, the OU-s will unveil Red Penguin, the top secret project in development for over 20 years. Red Penguin will prove once and for all that science and G-d are not incompatible – that science, in fact, points the way to G-d.

“This invention will fulfill the vision of Isaac Newton, who believed that science should show how G-d directly intervenes in and affects the world. I hope to see you all there ... OK, questions? Yes, you in the third row.”

“Isn’t Isaac Newton the guy who discovered gravity when an apple beaned him on the head?”

“That’s in all likelihood just a story. And I’ll save you another question: He didn’t discover the Fig Newton, either.

“Isaac Newton, the first physicist, was able to see G-d’s hand in the world with his science. The pertinent question is ‘Why didn’t anyone else see that?’ … Yes, the gentleman from the Ledger.”

“Why didn’t anyone else see that?”

“Good question. Newtonian physics made nature look like a machine, convincingly. Although Newton found Divinity there, most people couldn’t because physics was not advanced enough yet to explain the workings of the world as anything but machine-like … Myrna, go ahead.”

“Science has taken some pretty unpredictable turns since Newton’s time. Does it still describe a world without G-d?”

“In the 19^th Century science began to change. Eventually, as scientists probed the properties of light and later looked inside the atom, a peculiar universe of strange behavior emerged. Scientists themselves began to speculate that the implications of the quantum world opened the door to the possibility of an intelligent being transcending the physical … Yes, Roy.”

“Newton did more than leave the door open to G-d. He firmly believed that science and the belief in a Deity went hand in hand. Is anyone upholding that standard?”

“In the 1970s the Lubavitcher Rebbe announced that the time had come for science to fulfill its purpose, predicted by Kabbalah over 1,800 years ago: prepare the world for the Era of Mashiach. Then, according to the prophet Isaiah, everyone will see tangibly the Divinity that sustains the universe. Today’s science gives us a preview … Yes, in the front row, Ms. Skeptical.”

“That’s quite an assertion. Could you give us an example?”

“Einstein’s formula, E=mc², states that mass and energy are interchangeable, aspects of the same thing. E=mc² reduces the entire universe to these two equivalent states.

“The unity in the physical world demonstrated by Einstein is a reflection of the true existence of the world, G-d’s unity. Today science shows us unity in matter. In the future we will see with our eyes G-d’s essential oneness in the world … You in the third row.”

            “Can you confirm the rumors that a rogue group from the National Scientific Institute is trying to steal the OU-s’ much awaited secret project?”

            “No, I cannot. I think you’ve been reading too many spy novels … Next question. In the back.”

            “Why is that laptop case handcuffed to your left wrist?”

“What laptop? … Oh, this? My lunch is in here … peanut butter and jelly … and herring … sandwich. It’s my favorite. I don’t want it falling into the wrong hands … Good, there are no more questions … Have a nice day.”

I hurried out of the building, flagged a taxi and headed home.

That night I made dinner with the laptop still handcuffed to my left wrist. That didn’t present much of a problem, as I rarely use my left hand while cooking. But in my highly nervous – no, frightened – state I attempted to scratch my forehead with my left hand and banged myself on the nose.

            I decided to unlock the handcuff and place the laptop on the dinner table. As I reentered the kitchen, the computer began to beep. I had an email.

I opened the email and clicked on a smiley face. Nothing happened for a few seconds – then the computer started making loud noises, and the screen flashed on and off. Worried, I called Einstein.

“Did you open the email and select a smiley face icon?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You just launched the Funny Virus,” he informed me.

“What’s the Funny Virus?” I asked.

“The Funny Virus takes control of your operating system, erases your hard drive and finally melts your hardware from the inside out,” he explained.

“What’s funny about that?” I asked.

“Nothing – except that it tells a joke before it destroys your computer,” he said.

Just then a commanding voice came through my speakers:

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” I said.

“Bill and Melinda Gates,” the virus answered.

“Bill and Melinda Gates who?” I responded.

“You know, Bill Gates and Melinda Gates. Bill is the guy who founded Microsoft, and he and his wife Melinda now head an international foundation that gives billions of dollars a year for global health and development …”

“What happened?” Einstein interjected.

“The virus told a joke,” I said.

“Now what’s happening?” he asked.

“The computer hardware is melting from the inside out,” I reported.

“Yep,” Einstein said. “It’s the Funny Virus.”

“But that wasn’t even a real joke!” I protested.

“I guess you were right, then,” he admitted. “It’s not that funny, after all.”

After Shtroodle was torpedoed, the haranguing from the group of rogue NSI scientists stopped. I began exploring other ways to elevate awareness that science reveals G-dliness in the world. In my trolling of the Internet I came across an interesting scientific phenomenon, quantum entanglement. In the quantum universe when two particles interact and then become separated – even at opposite ends of the world – a change in one automatically yields the same change in the other.

I wrote a memo outlining how the OU-s could explore this area as a possible demonstration of G-dly unity and was directed to one of our scientists, Jerry Oppenheimer, who did work on the phenomenon.

Jerry was interested in my proposal, and we decided to begin collaborating. While we were talking I noticed he would occasionally drum his fingers on the lid of a green Tupperware container on his desk. As I was about to leave, I asked him what was in the container. He said with a smile it was his wife’s shtrudel and offered me a sample. I respectfully declined.

The Mashiach Hearing

Sen. Shetland: Good morning. Three weeks ago, when the Majority Leader took away Sen. Fontaine’s speaking privileges for shouting “Fire!” in the middle of Sen. Bridgeport’s filibuster, I said a little prayer to myself: “O Lord, take pity on this poor, misguided Congress.”

G-d’s answer to me was “Roy, invite the top religious leaders to testify before your Senate committee on how to get America’s legislators to work together again for the good of the country.”

Our first witness is Rabbi Joseph Blickstein, spiritual leader of Suburban Torah in Meridian, Idaho. Rabbi Blickstein, what’s Judaism’s best weapon to fight the bitter partisanship on Capitol Hill?

Rabbi Blickstein: Mashiach.

Sen. Shetland: Excuse me, Rabbi. You said “mushy” what?

Rabbi Blickstein: I said, “Mashiach.” The Messiah. The person who will perfect the world.

Sen. Shetland: Now there’s an ambitious agenda! Who is this guy? How’s he gonna get elected? Does he have an organization set up yet in Iowa or New Hampshire?

Rabbi Blickstein: Mashiach will be a king. The people will accept him as their leader based on his outstanding character traits and accomplishments.

Sen. Shetland: He’s not going be asked to kiss a baby or make a speech on ethanol?

Rabbi Blickstein: From my understanding, no. Mashiach, according to Maimonides, is a Jewish king who will restore the Davidic Monarchy. He will first compel the Jewish people to observe the Torah and then vanquish Israel’s enemies. Later he will rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem and inspire all Jews to return to the Land of Israel.

Sen. Shetland: If you don’t mind me saying, Rabbi, so far this sounds like a strictly Jewish affair. Didn’t you say Mashiach will perfect the world?

Rabbi Blickstein: Yes, I did. What I just described to you is the first stage of Mashiach’s rule, when it will be established that he is, in fact, the Messiah the world has been waiting for all these years. After his identity is confirmed, Mashiach will then turn his attention to the world-at-large.

Sen. Shetland: So that’s when he’ll get us to work together to balance the budget andI create jobs?

Rabbi Blickstein: Senator, when Mashiach comes there will be no more inflation, unemployment or credit crunch. Everyone will be able to obtain the finest luxuries; as a result, famine, war, envy and competition will disappear.

Sen. Shetland: My word, this Mashiach’s going to be better than Greenspan!

Rabbi Blickstein: Since the economy will cease being a concern, Mashiach will be free to truly unite the world, inspiring everyone to serve G-d together.

Sen. Shetland: You got my juices flowing, Rabbi! Please call my office if you have further suggestions along these lines … But now the Chair recognizes the Ranking Minority Member, the Gentle Lady from California, Sen. Ventura.

Sen. Ventura: Thank you, Mr. Chairman. California has long taken pride in being at the forefront of so many major American cultural trends. We invented the hot tub, skateboarding and environmentalism. California was the first state to say, “Have a nice day!” And ours were the first voters to make extensive use of both the popular initiative and the Ouija Board. Rabbi Blickstein, I don’t want my state to be left out of this. What can Californians do to prepare the nation and the world for Mashiach?

Rabbi Blickstein: The Talmud identifies seven commandments that G-d gave the nations of the world. These statutes derive their authority from Mount Sinai where they were transmitted by G-d as part of the Torah. The rabbinical sages have indicated that the nations of the world should learn and observe the Seven Commandments as preparation for the Age of Mashiach.

Sen. Ventura: Could you please tell us what these commandments are, Rabbi? I want to make sure they contain nothing environmentally damaging, discriminatory to minorities or women, or that would in any way undermine the asparagus or windsurfing industries.

Rabbi Blickstein: The Seven Laws are 1) Do not worship false gods; 2) Do not blaspheme G-d; 3) Do not murder; 4) Do not commit acts of sexual immorality; 5) Do not steal; 6) Do not remove a limb from a living animal; 7) Establish courts of justice.

Sen. Ventura: Rabbi Blickstein, is this a religion?

Rabbi Blickstein: The Noahide Laws are not a religion. They form a foundation of universal ethics on which all humanity can stand as one to acknowledge the One G-d, who endows everyone with life.

Sen. Ventura: Thank you very much, Rabbi … Mr. Chairman, I yield the remainder of my time to the Gentleman from Rhode Island, Sen. Broadcloth.

Sen. Broadcloth: One and a half minutes, whoopee! … Rabbi, my question to you is this: What is the End Game? Where is all this Mashiach business taking us? Let me warn you, Rhode Islanders are a proud people. We may live in the smallest state, but we were the first colony to declare independence from Great Britain. We will not allow ourselves to be led around by the nose!

Rabbi Blickstein: The “End Game,” as you say, is that – in the words of the prophet Isaiah – “The world will be filled with the knowledge of G-d as the waters cover the sea.” Humankind will become permeated with awareness of G-d to such an extent that the old world will become “covered” with goodness – unrecognizable in its complete transformation.

Sen. Broadcloth: Thank you, Rabbi. My time is up.

Sen. Shetland: Rabbi Blickstein, I’m sure I speak for the entire Committee when I say that we’ve learned a lot from you today, sir, much for all of us to consider … We will now adjourn for lunch. Our next witness will be Raj Nanda Yogi, who will show us how to balance the budget using meditation and deep breathing techniques. Sen. Ventura, how does 90 minutes sound to you? All right, then, we'll see y’all back here at 1:30 …

A Conversation with Balaam's Donkey

Leonard: My next guest is currently co-starring in the Broadway musical, “Balaam, (Don’t) Curse the Jews!” I’m very pleased to welcome Balaam’s Donkey to our show. Hello.

Donkey: Hi, Leonard.

Leonard: Congratulations on being chosen to play this part. You’re basically reprising your role as Balaam the soothsayer’s talking donkey in the Biblical story Balak. Is the musical faithful to the original as you experienced it?

Donkey: Well, you know, the parts about me rescuing the children from the burning tower and leading the Israelites into battle with my rousing oratory – for some reason those were left out.

Leonard: Really. I read the Torah portion to prepare for this interview, and I don’t recall anything like that.

Donkey: Oh, yeah? Are you sure? Maybe I’m remembering it differently.

Leonard: Why don’t you give us an overview of the story. That way we can make sure we’re both on the same page.

Donkey: It’s been called “a cautionary tale of one man’s attempt to bend G-d’s will to his own – with a talking donkey.”

Leonard: Who wrote that? One of the ancient Hebrew commentators?

Donkey: No, Ben Brantley of the New York Times. He was reviewing the musical. Let’s see … Balak was the king of Moab, one of the superpowers at the time. He summoned Balaam, a seer with powers of prophecy rivaling those of Moses, to curse the nation of Israel.

Leonard: Why did Balak want to curse the Jews? Did they break his window?

Donkey: No, Israel had just annihilated the two biggest superpowers, and Balak was terrified. He thought cursing the Jews would weaken them, and then he’d be able to defeat them militarily. So he sent his ministers to Balaam to request his cursing services. Balaam told them to wait overnight: he needed to see what G-d had to say about it first.

Leonard: Did they really have overnight delivery then?

Donkey: I’m afraid not, Leonard. G-d appeared to Balaam only at night.

Leonard: And G-d gave the cursing a thumbs up “Like”?

Donkey: Not exactly. He laid down three unambiguous orders: 1) don’t go with the men to Balak’s court; 2) don’t curse the Jews; and 3) don’t bless them, either, because they’re already blessed.

Leonard: So I guess Balaam told the ministers G-d didn't want him to curse Israel.

Donkey: Not exactly. He led the ministers to believe that the reason he couldn’t travel with them was not because G-d wouldn't allow him to curse the Jews but because they, the ministers, weren’t prominent enough.

Leonard: Were these UN officials?

Donkey: They were real ministers. They reported Balaam’s demand, and the king simply sent another delegation of higher rank. Balaam made them wait overnight again, and this time G-d told him: “OK, big shot, go already. But you better not try any cursing.”

Leonard: So now we come to your scene.

Donkey: That’s right. We’re riding down the road on our way to the King and all of a sudden I see an angel standing there with a drawn sword. So I turn off the road into a field. The angel appears twice more, each time blocking my path. Before I’m forced to stop, I unavoidably cause Balaam’s leg to be pressed against a wall.

Leonard: Balaam must not have been too happy about all that.

Donkey: He struck me hard each time I strayed. So I said, "What have I done to you that you strike me these three times?" He answered that I had embarrassed him before the ministers and that if he had had a sword he would have killed me.

Leonard: Really, he threatened to kill you? What was it like working for him?

Donkey: He wasn’t exactly the nicest guy in the world. He’d do things like hide my oat bag.

Leonard: How do you find performing with Balaam all these years later?

Donkey: We have a lot more respect for each other now. To be safe, though, I keep my oat bag in my briefcase.

Leonard: So what happened in the end with Balaam and the Jews?

Donkey: G-d, through the angel, allowed Balaam to travel on to King Balak. Balaam blessed the Jews. And it was quite a blessing. The Mah Tovu prayer that’s said every morning was taken from the blessing. To top it off, he foretold the coming of Mashiach. It’s one of only three places in the Five Books of Moses that alludes to his arrival.

Leonard: Why didn’t the Jews sign him up after that? He sounds like a valuable asset.

Donkey: He really hated the Jews, Leonard. He sought their destruction by other means.

Leonard: So what do we learn from this story?

Donkey: One thing I took away from the experience, Leonard, is a perspective on free will. G-d makes known His will, but He also allows people to choose their own way. G-d made a donkey talk – that’s me – and an angel materialize to persuade Balaam to turn back from his path of defiance. He didn’t want to punish Balaam immediately; he gave him chances.

Leonard: Now you’re telling the story on the Great White Way. Musicals, though, don’t run forever. What would you like to do next?

Donkey: I’d like to try my hand at talk radio. I can see myself doing a morning sports show – call it “Dave and the Donkey.” He’d be the crazy-whacky guy. I’d be the cerebral one with the expert analysis of the Red Zone Defense and the intricate labor negotiations.

Leonard: I think that would suit you real well, Donkey. Thank you for taking the time to talk to us.

Donkey: My pleasure, Leonard.

Leonard: That’s our show for today. Be sure to join me tomorrow when my guests will include a certain talkative snake, who tries to defend himself in a new autobiography …

The Soul of Love

A friend of mine once refused to go out with a guy because she was appalled by the kind of shoes he wore. Fortunately she was persuaded to meet him. They eventually married and now have two children. Still, my friend’s shoe fixation could have prevented the discovery of her beshert, her intended soul mate.

Although potentially catastrophic, her over appreciation of footwear has a bright side. It teaches us a graphic lesson about an all too common behavior: when we relate to someone based on his exterior we risk missing the real person inside. It’s not so easy, though, especially when we meet someone for the first time, to see past the public persona.

Yet the Torah expects us to. “Love your fellow as yourself,” it asks us – every fellow Jew, even someone we’ve just met. But can we love someone even before we get to know him or her?

The Lubavitcher Rebbe showed this is possible. The Rebbe, in his eighties used to stand up to eight hour every Sunday greeting a continuous line of people who came to him for advice or a blessing. When asked how he was able to do this, he replied, “When you’re counting diamonds, you don’t get tired.”

Souls were the Rebbe’s diamonds. He loved every Jew he met because he zeroed in on each person’s soul. The language the person spoke, the way he looked, his education level, his prominence all shrank in importance in the Rebbe’s estimation. What mattered to him was the divine soul, a part of G-d residing in every Jew.

Because the Rebbe shared this secret with us he must have believed that we, too, could love every Jew by lowering our valuation of the body – the biosocial aspects of a person, external to his essence – and giving precedence to the soul.

Divided Bodies

All my friends seem to be just like me. We all bought the same smart phone, we all like the same ’70s rock music, we all follow the same sports, we share the same sense of humor, understand the same literary and historical references, go to the same restaurants, vote for the same political candidates. My friends are even the same size as me. (OK, there was one little, short guy we made an exception for because he’s got such great albums.)

There’s a problem, though, with this cozy arrangement. While these interests bind my group of friends, they lock out anyone of a different type. That’s because the idiosyncrasies we share in common are manifestation of the body. And the body separates us.

G-d endows each of us with a different blend of physical features, inclinations, talents, strengths and weaknesses. But what makes each person unique undermines our ability to unite with one and other. Just think of all the jealousy, competition, lost friendships, divorce, prejudice and war triggered by excessive concern over outward differences between people, groups or nations.

In the Torah, for instance, when G-d wants to squash the attempt of the builders of the Tower of Babel to climb to Heaven and challenge Him, He confuses their efforts by causing each schemer to speak in a different language. Introducing a new physiological variable among them, language, breaks their unity.

Even a friendship between two people who speak the same language – both literally and figuratively – can be undone by personal differences between them. When one person no longer shares the same things in common with the other, a friendship may collapse because it depended on those interests to keep the relationship glued together.

As these examples attest, biosocial factors don’t make the strongest possible bonds. The body presents too many opportunities to examine the many differences among us. When the goal is to love our fellow in the same way that we love ourselves, a method of loving that highlights the differences between us is bound to fail. So loving every Jew requires employing something more universal and cohesive than the body as a catalyst.

As we consider this point, my social group is beginning to realize that choosing friends on the basis of favorite album doesn’t encourage a lot of diversity. Se we’ve started to broaden our concept of friendship. The result: guys have been hanging out around here who are a lot more well-rounded than we are. It’s just not an acceptable solution. Someone’s got to come up with a way to promote unity that doesn’t involve genes or breeding.

Soul Brothers

Unlike the body, which points up how we’re all foreign to each other, the soul demonstrates our equality. No one can see the soul. As far as anyone can tell, each person’s soul is the same as any other. While the body flaunts its distinctiveness, drawing comparison and judgment, a person’s soul, in its concealment and mystery, invites us to value its role as our connection to G-d without having to judge its performance compared to other souls. Cherishing the equalizing soul more than the body, then, enables us to love every Jew.

Although the apparent equality of all souls in their concealment encourages us to treat all Jews with love, the soul as illuminated by Kabbalah compels us even more so to love every Jew. As bodies, Jews are like everyone else. As souls, we’re unique. Besides the life-giving, natural soul G-d provides all created beings, the Jew possesses a second divine soul, which is a part of G-d. So spiritually all Jews, true brothers, descend from the same father.

That’s why the Baal Shem Tov said we must have self-sacrifice to love another Jew, even one we’ve never seen. When we respect a fellow Jew’s soul more than his body our love for him doesn’t depend on whether we’ve met him before. We know he has a brother soul. To love a Jew, say the last remaining Jew in Afghanistan, all we need to reflect on is that he’s Jewish.

Biological siblings, despite the distance caused by their squabbles, ultimately feel the intrinsic bond that unites them. Similarly when Jews hear about a brother living in some far corner of the world, they experience a feeling of kinship, of familial love.

But when we finally get to meet that fellow Jew from a distant land, who would choose to obsess over his unusual shoes? Instead we would be moved to love him for that diamond inside him, the diamond whose worth is invaluable and whose beauty is incomparable, just like ours.

Chosen

By Moshe Parelman

G-d said He would choose us if we chose Him.

It was the second day of the month of Sivan, four days before the Giving of the Torah. Moses ascended Mount Sinai early that morning. G-d called out to him, instructing Moses to tell the Jewish nation encamped opposite the mountain, “And now, if you heed Me and keep My covenant, you will be a treasure to Me from among all the peoples, for all the earth is Mine (Exodus 19:5).” Choose My Torah and its mitzvot, which I am ready to give you, and I will choose you as My nation.

G-d made His choice of the Jewish people conditional on their accepting His commandments because the mitzvot are G-d’s tools for achieving His master plan. That plan is the ultimate reason for Creation and the mission He chose the Jews to carry out.

G-d created the world, according to the Torah, because He desired a finite, physical place, foreign to divinity – and reside there. G-d wanted the universe to feel so familiar to Him He could be Himself there, like a person in his living room.

To satisfy that desire G-d gave the Jewish people mitzvot to transform an imperfect world into a dwelling place for G-d by elevating mundane physical matter to holiness.

One could question, however, why the commandments distinguish the Jewish people as “Chosen.” Since the beginning of time people with their good deeds have refined the material

G-d gave them, turning barbarianism into civilization, improving life and curing disease: stones to wheels; sounds to symphonies; mold to penicillin; sand to computer chips. Surely the march of civilization has made the planet a more hospitable environment for G-d.

Still there must be something unique about doing a mitzvah – some quality that makes the act the preferred way to bring out the divine in the world.

Maybe the difference lies in intention. When a Jew lights Shabbat candles she intends to attach herself to G-d’s will as expressed in that commandment. The inventor of the heart transplant or the mappers of the human genome, although benefiting G-d’s creation, weren’t necessarily intending to do G-d’s will.

Unlike in contemporary times, though, in past centuries many scientists were religious men, some even inspired by G-d to investigate nature. Consider the case of Isaac Newton. Newton, in his own words, intended with the Principia – his great work of physics which more than any other book helped usher in modern science – to demonstrate the existence of G-d in the world. Newton wanted to make the world welcome to G-d’s being here, basically the Jewish mission. Intention, then, apparently doesn’t separate the mitzvah from the societal contribution.

So maybe the mitzvah’s uniqueness derives not from intention but from the mitzvah act. The mitzvah, a sacred undertaking, serves as a vehicle for G-d’s plan for the universe. The civilization advancing achievement, a secular activity, is perhaps unable to channel the divine mission.

But the Torah itself says otherwise. According to the Talmud, doctors don’t heal their patients. G-d does. The doctor is merely a vehicle for G-d’s blessing and will. That means that Edward Jenner, who developed the first vaccine (for small pox), Alexander Fleming, who discovered penicillin, your doctor, and your mother, who gave you medicine when you were sick, were all doing G-d’s work. So the contributor to society carries out G-d’s plan, just as the mitzvah achiever does.

Nonetheless, the secular improvement and the mitzvah are different. And the reason is there are two plans.

The person who makes a contribution to civilization helps implement G-d’s immediate, short-term plan: creating a settled, humane planet. When man betters the planet, he connects with G-d through Creation. He takes from the material G-d made for the world during Creation and innovates – the number zero, genetic sequencing – to improve the universal condition. The innovator improves the world, but it remains essentially the same one that G-d created.

The mitzvah doer, by contrast, shoulders G-d’s long-term, permanent plan: laying the groundwork for the Era of Mashiach. That strategy prescribes transforming the planet into a dwelling place for G-d. Because making over the universe is so extraordinary, indeed otherworldly, the project requires a special tool.

The tool, the mitzvah, converts the part of the physical world used to perform the commandment, as well as the mitzvah doer, into a vehicle for holiness. When a Jewish person gives tzedakah (charity), according to Chassidic philosophy, the time and energy spent by the person in earning that money ascends with the mitzvah to the sacred.

But the Jew and his mitzvah cannot revolutionize the globe employing only the elements

G-d used to create the world we’ve always known. To elevate a Jew’s labor and money into something holy – to contribute to the transformation of the planet into a Mashiach planet – the mitzvah channels new life into the world from G-d’s very essence. That is the uniqueness of the mitzvah.

G-d chose the Jewish people to complete Creation. At Mount Sinai He entrusted us with His Torah and mitzvot – per our approval – to purify the earth, mitzvah by mitzvah. Over three millennia of mitzvot later, the world stands on the brink of a new reality. And the two who chose each other at Sinai will finally be together, here.

Resting with G-d

By Moshe Parelman


… And G-d finished on the Seventh Day His work which He had done, and He rested on the Seventh Day from all His work which He had done (Genesis 2:1).

Six days you shall work and the seventh day you shall rest … (Exodus 23:12).

Creating the world in six days was a mammoth undertaking. But did G-d really have to rest? We’re talking about G-d. Man getting a day off, however, makes perfect sense. What perplexes me is that G-d thought He needed to make the world’s rest day a commandment. Resting from backbreaking labor just makes good health sense. What did G-d add by consecrating my weekend? To answer that question, to understand how rest can be holy, we need to first consider something more familiar, the work that makes rest desirable.
Right now I am writing, which I consider work. To perform this work I must invest my creative powers. I draw from my intellect to determine what I’m going to say, how I’m going to say it, the relationship between ideas, what words to use, where to put the commas, semicolons and periods … Yes, I know you’re impressed. I also invest my emotions. I can’t write sincerely or convincingly if I don’t love what I’m writing about. Above all, I must delight in my work. Without taking pleasure in the completed piece as I imagine it, I have no reason to channel my mind and heart into the writing.
Now while I’m doing the actual writing I can’t deploy the full force of my intellectual and emotional powers. As I channel my knowledge of Chassidic teachings on Shabbat into these sentences, I can’t access my understanding of the law of two who grab the same tallis or Rashi’s commentary on why Abraham told the Egyptians Sarah was his sister. By the same token, the love I feel for this essay must be limited to the present topic to the exclusion of my passion for, say, Matzah or Baal Shem Tov stories.
Above all, I can’t delight in my vision of the finished story while I’m occupied with writing it. In the midst of expressing my ideas and emotions, gazing at the computer screen and furrowing my brow, no one can see the pleasure with which I anticipate the final keystroke. Only when the job is done, when my intellectual and emotional faculties become disengaged from the work and return to me, will I delight.
G-d intended a satisfying conclusion to His work, the Six Days of Creation. But while He was engaged in the job, employing the supernal powers of intellect and emotion to construct the universe, the original vision G-d delighted in was not yet realized. Delighting at that point was irrelevant. Once G-d completed His work, allowing His powers to return from their labor to rest in their essence – once the Creation was at hand – G-d delighted. That pleasure is elicited anew every Shabbat.
G-d, then, had good reason to make resting a commandment. Besides its physical benefits, Shabbat recharges our spiritual batteries. In fact the Shabbat rest is a whole package deal, healing body, mind and soul, with tranquil rest and pleasure.
What about G-d, though? We need a good Shabbat to complete what we lack during the week. But G-d is perfect. He shouldn’t have had to rest after the inaugural workweek. Truth be told, He didn’t have to. He did it for us.
G-d created the world in a way that we can emulate, using creative powers in six days with a seventh day of rest. He did so because He wanted us to be His partner in perfecting Creation. To strengthen our resolve to complete the work, He gave us Shabbat, a time to renew our senses and a foretaste of the perfect world to come.
The culmination of our refinement of the world, week by week, Shabbat after Shabbat, will be the Era of Moshiach. The Talmud calls that time, our reward after 5,770 years on the job, the “day that is entirely Shabbat and rest for eternal life.” May we soon enjoy the fruits of our labor.