Getting a Handle on the Messiah - Reflections on Sukkot 5776

Symbolically speaking, Sukkot is one of the most richly textured holidays on the Jewish calendar. 

On one level, Sukkot is Chag HaAsif, the autumn harvest holiday, a opportunity to rejoice in Gcd's benevolence for the bountiful crop. A related theme is that of water/rain, and how we pray for sweet rains and (thus) prosperity for the coming season.

It is also Chag HaSukkot, the holiday of the temporary booths. The sukkah (booth) itself contains many layers of meaning: according to Rabbi Akiva, it represents the temporary physical dwellings the Jewish people inhabited during their desert trek from Egypt to Israel. According to Rabbi Eliezer, the booths represent the spiritual Clouds of Divine Glory which enveloped and protected the Jewish People during that trek.

But the holiday of Sukkot is also deeply imbued with imagery of the coming messianic age. 

If Pesach/Passover is all about the birth of the Jewish Nation and the beginning of our historical journey; if Shavuot/Pentecost is all about accepting the Torah at Mount Sinai and receiving our Divine Charge - to perform the mitzvot and bring the ennobling Light of the One True Gcd to the world; then Sukkot is all about the end of that historical process and the beginning of a new, post-historical epoch for humankind.

The English word "messiah" comes from the Hebrew word Moshiach which means "anointed one." Moses was a moshiach, one anointed by Gcd to leadership; so was King David. (One idea posits that in every generation there is a person, anointed by Gcd, ready to step forward as the messiah and begin the Redemption of the Jewish People - if only we demonstrate our readiness for it.)

But for all of the discussion in the Talmud and later sources, we have only a fuzzy idea about the messiah and the messianic age. Here's what we do know: 

- The Messiah will be a human being, a direct descendant of King David;
- He will teach Torah to the masses;
- He will lead all the wayward Jews back into the fold of the Divine Covenant;
- He will restore the Davidic dynasty, and restore the Jewish People to our ancestral homeland in Israel, tribe by tribe, clan by clan;
- He will build the Third (and final) Temple on Mount Moriah, the site currently occupied by the interloping Golden Mosque, and the Divine Presence will return to it as in the days of the First Temple;
- In ways which are poorly understood, the righteous of all past generations will come back to life and we will be able to interact with our ancestors - Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, our grandparents and great-grandparents, and (who knows?) maybe even Bach and Handel;
- He will lead all the gentile nations to abandon their sophisticated idolatries and embrace the simple belief in, and the sovereignty of, the One True Gcd;
- Once the Immanence of Gcd floods the world, nations will make war no more; the forces of hatred, avarice and evil will be destroyed; and the Messiah will usher in an era when the family of man will finally - finally! -  live together in peace, in liberty, in prosperity and in brotherhood.

Quite the job description.

The holiday of Sukkot is all about the Messianic Age. The public Torah readings on Sukkot from Zechariah and Ezekiel are all about messianic times and prophecies. The sukkah itself represents the rebuilt Temple. The Ushpizin, the spiritual visitors whom we welcome into our sukkah, are the righteous souls who will be resurrected.

Unique to Sukkot, the Temple sacrifices for this holiday include 70 bulls as olot, elevation offerings: these bulls represent the 70 Gentile Nations of the world, on whose behalf we pray. In the messianic future, representatives of the 70 Gentile Nations will send emissaries to the Temple to pay homage to Gcd and celebrate Sukkot with Jewish People.

The four species - palm, myrtle, willow and citron - which we hold together and wave during Sukkot prayers, are deeply symbolic of messianic times. The bundling together of this disparate group represents unity among the disparate groups of Jews; it also represents the Unification of Gcd's name in the world, in contrast to our current state, in which the knowledge of Gcd is fractured, twisted, corrupted. And the image of dozens upon dozens of palms being held aloft and waved recalls the prophecy that, "then (in the messianic times) the trees of the forest will rejoice and dance; Before Gcd who comes, who comes to judge the world."  (Psalm 96)

All of the foregoing explains why Sukkot is also called Zman Simchateinu, our Rejoiceful Time. Sure, we have a mitzvah to rejoice on all of our festivals, but there is a special measure of simchah, joy, on Sukkot - it is the Jew's most cherished dream to see the return of the Shechinah, the indwelling presence of Gcd, return to the world. Then, the veils of self-doubt and confusion will be removed; then, the meaning of the historical process will become clear; then, the love of Gcd and our fellow man will flood the world.

There is no greater joy than contemplating and celebrating the delicious prospect of that imminent reality.

But Sukkot suggests something more, coming on the heels (as it does) of Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. I would like to suggest that the message of Sukkot is that we must all behave as though each one of us is the Messiah.

After all, Sukkot belongs to us all: Every Jew has an obligation to wave the four species; every Jew has an obligation to sit, eat and dwell in the sukkah. In other words, every one of us has a role to play in the fulfillment of the messianic future that Sukkot represents.

The Rambam says that every Jew has the potential to be a Moses. So it follows that every Jew has the potential to be a messiah, an Anointed One. 

How so? Through rigorous introspection and spiritual/moral development; through an all-permeating "Gcd-Consciousness" that the deeply pious cultivate; through a personal recognition of the sovereignty of Gcd and the authority of His Torah in our lives; through a burning passion for goodness, kindness and justice; and through acting as a catalyst for spiritual growth in others.

What if the fate of the world rested on your ethical choices? On the intensity of your tefillah/prayer? On whether you keep kosher or not? On whether you keep the Shabbat or not? On whether you bite your tongue and avoid that juicy tidbit of gossip - or not?

Because I've got news for you - in a very real sense, it does.

The great paradox of Sukkot is that the rickety sukkah, with its leaky roof and shaky walls, represents the mighty, unwavering hand of Providence as it has protected the Jewish People throughout our turbulent history. Similarly, it is through turning inward to cultivate our deepest spiritual gifts that we can begin to transform the external world around us.

May we all merit to see the coming of the Messianic era in our life times, Amen.

Chag Sameach/Happy Sukkot.

PS: To see an earlier blog post on Sukkot, click HERE.

Billy Jack & the Mullahs - Reflections on Parashat Shoftim 5775

(Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9)

Those of you of my vintage may remember a cult film In the early '70's called Billy Jack starring Tom Laughlin in the title role. Billy Jack was the ultimate outsider: part Native American, a Green Beret Vietnam war veteran and martial arts master. In the context of the time: he was bi-racial, rejected by both whites and Indians; he was a Vietnam war veteran at a time when Vietnam vets were being publicly humiliated; and a martial arts master long before anyone in the US had ever heard of Kung Fu or Bruce Lee. He was an odd duck, pretty much ostracized by everybody. 

Except for the people he defends. In the film, Billy Jack takes on predatory biker gangs and corrupt politicians who prey on the weak and the vulnerable of their society. For those whom the law had abandoned, he uses his own unique brand of street justice and martial arts to extract justice and becomes a cult hero in the process.

The one thing that stands out in my mind about Billy Jack (and I must confess I haven't seen the movie since I was 10 years old) is how he prepared for the big showdown with the baddies. In a strange melding of Native American spirituality and reminiscences of his Hapkido Master, he goes out into the desert for self-reflection, enduring a rigorous regimen of spiritual preparation, self-awareness and physical discipline. 

It was only by turning inward that he could prepare for the battle to come, because in the battle between good and evil, spiritual, not physical, preparation is demanded. 

This week's parashah is all about War and Peace. Moses describes how to establish an orderly, peaceful civil society based upon the rule of law. 

He also discusses the rules of War.

The Jewish Army was an army of citizens: we had no professional soldiery. Deuteronomy Chapter 20 describes the words of encouragement given to the citizen-soldier by the Cohen, the Jewish Priest: 'this is a defensive war, and A-lmighty Gcd will go before you to fight your battles for you and perform miracles for you as He has done since the days of Moses.' 

After this oration, the Priests would then offer army exemptions for newlyweds and the like. And after that, the Torah says:

[After the Priests has spoken] the Shotrim (police/sergeants) added on the following exemption: Let any man who is afraid or is soft-hearted go and return to his home, lest he demoralize the hearts of his brethren like his. (20:8)

The commentators cite a dispute in the Talmud (Sotah 43) on this verse between Rabbi Yossi of the Galilee and Rabbi Akiva: Rabbi Akiva understood "soft-hearted" to mean that, despite the priestly promises of success on the battlefield, this man lacked faith in the outcome of battle. In other words, he lacked faith in Gcd.

Rabbi Yossi, however, felt that the soft-hearted soldier believed plenty in Gcd, only he didn't believe in himself: in reflecting upon his own behavior, the soft-hearted man realized that he was not deserving of the Providential intervention promised by the Cohen. He believed that the Jewish Army would prevail, but he feared that he personally might not survive owing to his less than valorous behavior in his private life.

And who is valorous? He who possesses self-control. As the Torah states: he who is slow to anger is greater than a hero, and he who is the master of his emotions is greater than a general who conquers a city. (Avot 4:1)

This week, secret codicils of the Iranian Nuclear Agreement were revealed which allow the Iranians to verify compliance of the agreement with their own nuclear experts. In other words, the wolves are guarding the hen house.

Neither advocates nor opponents of the Agreement seriously believe that the Iranian Nuclear Development Program is intended to develop therapeutic medical radio-isotopes. (Oh, sorry: except the BBC.)

Throughout the negotiations and even as recently as this week, the Iranians have publicly and unabashedly reiterated their stated goal of destroying Israel and her seven million Jews. And if the Twentieth Century has taught us anything, it's that when demagogues threaten genocide it is foolhardy ignore those threats. Iran and her allies will attack Israel with every means at its disposal when it believes it has sufficient advantage to prevail.

At best, the agreement might defer war until the politicians responsible for crafting it are no longer accountable for their actions. That's the general modus operandi of politicians: take the money now, and kick the can down the road for someone else to deal with later. 

But when all the dust settles, tens of billions of dollars in hard currency will have been released to the Iranians in exchange for unverifiable assurances of their goodwill. The goodwill of the same Iranians who are gleefully and very openly preparing for genocide.

The Iranian Nuclear Agreement guarantees war. 

But take heart: the Torah likens the Jewish People to the moon: no matter how bright it may appear in the night sky, the moon has no internal light of its own, its brightness reflects a mere fraction of the light of the sun. So too the Jewish People: the light that others see in us is actually the Gcdly Light as reflected through the Covenant of Sinai. 

In other words, those who fight Israel have no quarrel with us; they fight against Gcd Himself, and can never prevail. As the Torah says, Gcd will go before the Jewish People to fight our battles for us and save us. 

Just ask the Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Assyrians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Nazis. They may get in their licks, but we always wind up on the winning side of history, surviving and enduring.

The question is Rabbi Yossi's: are we worthy of that Divine Intervention? Are we worthy of the Miracle?

Again: who is a Gibor (valorous)? He who possesses self-control. As the Torah states: he who is slow to anger is greater than a hero, and he who is the master of his emotions is greater than a general who conquers a city. (Avot 4:1)

How well served are we by a Jewish Leadership that is dragged through the mud almost weekly by revelations of sexual or financial impropriety? By the leadership of gutless technocrats who weigh every decision not on the basis of right or wrong, but on the basis of mitigating liability, and who tilt justice towards the haves at the expense of the have-nots? Who publicly blather pieties while privately chasing power, money and sex?

We need Giborim (the brave, the mighty) as our leaders, not the rachi halev, the soft of heart and mind, like our current crop of complacent, corpulent cowards.

And what of ourselves? All Jews (and everyone who believes in the One True Gcd) must prepare for the coming difficulties by making ourselves worthy of the Miracle that is about to occur: by rectifying our behavior, returning to the basics, and preparing spiritually for the rocky path ahead. 

Difficult times await. Here and now, during the penitential month of Elul, we must each go to the "desert" for self-reflection, spiritual preparation and self-awareness. 

For it is only by turning to Gcd as a united people with one heart that we will make ourselves worthy of the great Redemption which is about to unfold before our very eyes.

Shabbat Shalom.

Springtime's Bustin' Out All Over - Reflections on Sefirat HaOmer 5775

(Advance apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein.)

Sefirah is the seven week period between Pesach and Shavuot. During part of this time in early spring, for 33 days, Jews observe a period of mild mourning. Primarily, we avoid live concerts, we put off weddings, and (if you're a guy) you grow a beard like a mourner.

The reason is to be found in the Talmud, Tractate Yevamot 62b:

It was said that Rabbi Akiva had 12,000 pairs of disciples from Gabbatha to Antipatris; and all of them died at the same time because they did not treat each other with respect...A Tanna taught: "All of them died between Passover and Shavuot". Rabbi Hama ben Abba (or it might have been Rabbi Hiyya ben Abin) said: "All of them died a cruel death." What was it? Rabbi Nahman replied: "Askarah."

In my ill-spent and dissolute youth (smile), I must confess that I just couldn't get into the mode of mourning. I mean it's springtime - springtime! The world is coming alive again! Birds are a-twitter (back when 'twitter' only meant a melodious avian articulation.) Trees are in blossom, love is in the air, everything is fresh and new and vivid and just so...so breathtakingly beautiful. 

And every spring I am reminded of a line in Saul Bellow's Henderson the Rain King: “Every twenty years or so the earth renews itself in young maidens," a renewal that undoubtedly occurs, as do the crocuses, daffodils and tulips, in the spring.

So, as I say, I didn't understand. To compound my confusion, the reasoning of the Talmud was very obscure. 24,000 students? What does that even mean, for one guy to have 24,000 students? How does one teacher relate in a meaningful way to 24,000 disciples? (Even today, the Mir Yeshivah in Jerusalem, one of the largest in the world with hundreds of rabbis on staff, only has about 7,500 students.)

And what does it mean that they died because they dissed one another? We're talking about the disciples of Rabbi Akiva here, arguably one of the greatest rabbis in all of Jewish history. And they all died of a cruel death called "askarah?" And the plague magically stopped on one specific day? And why do we traditionally celebrate that day, the 33rd day of the count, with picnics and bonfires and archery?

None of it made any sense to me. How could it be that the Sages of Israel were so out of touch with the palpable, vital reality of springtime that they ordained a period of sadness and mourning? Didn't they look out the window? The incongruity of sefirah and spring was screaming at me. 

And then my wife's only brother was killed by a drunk driver. 

Michael Allen Ziegler, z"l, was killed during sefirah. He was only 24, single, in the springtime of his life. And to compound the pain, he was killed by his best friend, who walked away from the twisted wreck uninjured.

And then I began to understand.

I began to understand the futility of trying to comfort an inconsolable wife. I began to understand how the blossoming flowers that spring held no solace; indeed, in their very beauty they seemed to mock Michael's death. 

I began to understand how the beauty of spring is fleeting when weighed against the inevitability, the permanence, of death. 

The Sages, in their wisdom, were counseling temperance in enjoying the beauties of spring. 'Soak up the loveliness of spring,' they seemed to be saying, 'but don't be overcome by the seductions of youth, by fleeting beauty, no matter how immediate or palpable it may seem in the moment.'

The historical fact is that Rabbi Akiva's "students" were actually the warriors in Bar Kochba's rebellion. Like Uncle Mike, they were in the prime of their lives - youthful, idealistic and beautiful. The "cruel death" his disciples suffered was the decisive military rout by the Roman Legions in the fields of Beitar. Those brave young men died in battle, and the battle - and their lives - ended on a single day in 135 CE. Also ended was any hope of Jewish political sovereignty for the next 18 very long and dark centuries.

So that explains the archery and bonfires used to commemorate Lag B'Omer, the 33rd day of the count (which is this coming Thursday, BTW.)

But the Gemara couldn't tell the real story, could it? Not with the Roman censors looking on and the fears of reprisal against the pockets of remaining Jews. So it speaks in hints and ambiguities. 

With wiser eyes, it must be said that the loss of our national sovereignty and personal freedoms are indeed things worth mourning over.

So yeah, go sit under a tree in the park and enjoy the gifts of spring...but tuck a Pirkei Avot (Wisdom of the Sages) under one arm, too.

Shabbat Shalom.