Posts Tagged ‘messiah’

Redemption Song

Friday, October 30th, 2015

by Sam Glaser

I had the pleasure of leading the 5776 High Holiday prayers for a wonderful congregation, Beth El Yardley, just north of Philly and feel like I have a whole new family in the area.  My wife and two of our kids came with me on the adventure, Sarah on the flight with us from LA and Jesse on the train from New York where he is a freshman at Yeshiva University. I’d like to think they came to support their dear old dad but in fact they were lured primarily with the promise of rest and relaxation at a Central Virginia lake with prime waterskiing conditions where friends of ours have a home. After two sweet days of Rosh Hashana prayers we stuffed our bags into a rented Chevy Malibu and braved four hours on the I95, choosing to drive in the middle of the night rather than endure the traffic which was exacerbated thanks to the Pope’s east coast visit. Following a delicious week of water sports and family time I returned to Philadelphia well rehearsed and suntanned, prepared to enter the vocal marathon that is Yom Kippur.  Once again I experienced the annual cantorial miracle: somehow without any food and drink God enabled me to daven in top form over the course of twenty-five hours, baruch Hashem!

We got back to LA just in time for Shabbat and then Sukkot started on Sunday night. Needless to say, holiday preparations were somewhat rushed. Thankfully my son Jesse volunteered a hand to help me get the sukkah up and running. LA weather was relentlessly hot and yet I feel there is no cooler place to be than in a sukkah. The meals with dear friends were sublime, the davening filled with ecstatic song and dance and each night I fell asleep under the schach (organic sukkah roof material) while watching the full moon slowly arc across the desert sky. I realized that I was experiencing a view that our ancestors have enjoyed for millennia. Yes, we Jews are still living in sukkot, on a panoramic journey from exile to redemption.

When we left Egypt we made forty-two stops over the course of our forty-year march to the Promised Land. In each place we set up our sukkot and enjoyed the protection from the elements in the form of divinely placed clouds that shielded us from all dangers. According to Kabbalah we all are reincarnated from these same brave, wandering Jews.   How remarkable that the Jewish People are still wandering; sojourning in modern cities around the globe instead encampments in the desert, hopefully spreading the light of ethical monotheism on the way, engaging in tikkun olam, sharing our spiritual gift with all nations. Sukkot reminds us that life has purpose and direction, that we come from humble origins and that there is indeed a fabulous destination.

Once, on the flight to a Shabbaton that I was leading in Knoxville, TN, I was pouring over Farbrengen, a hip Chabad publication that used to arrive on my doorstep several times a year. An article by Rabbi Heschel Greenberg entitled “The Mysterious Logic of Mashiach” particularly interested me. The Mashiach (messiah) word has always given me the willies. A human being ushering in a “golden age” sounds like science fiction. Furthermore I am highly resistant to change and any talk of such sudden transformation fills me with foreboding. Most of us growing up in a politically correct world inherit the value of moral relativism: nothing is absolute, no one really has the truth, no one can tell us what to do…especially some fanatic who calls himself Mashiach! This article took the reader on a step-by-step explanation of why the belief in a messianic age is absolutely normal, spans all cultures and bridges the religious and secular divide. Christians pray for Jesus to come back, Muslims wait for the Mahdi, Capitalists place their faith in science to perfect the world and Communists attempt to create an atheist worker’s utopia. And why shouldn’t it be an individual that ushers in this messianic age? After all, enterprising upstarts who choose to open the eyes of a blinded populace rather than accept the status quo have launched every revolution in human history.

The article provided such a paradigm shift that I spent the entire flight preparing a talk on the Jewish concept of the messianic age for my Knoxville victims. I even peppered my Saturday night concert with songs inspired by eschatological themes. I thought the presentation was important and interesting and no, I never got invited back. The fact is that no one wants to discuss the messiah except for Chassisdim, who end every d’var Torah with “and Mashiach should come speedily in our days.” Even many Modern Orthodox avoid the subject, as if the announcement of Mashiach would affect their real estate holdings or require that they wear shtreimels. The Conservative movement is undecided (surprise, surprise) and Reform has confidently voided mention of a messiah in its principles and liturgy. And yet, Maimonides, the great rationalist, considered the belief in the coming of Mashiach to be one of the thirteen core principles of our faith. Judaism maintains that mitzvot are cumulative, every act of kindness and love reverberates through the universe and leaves and indelible imprint. Whereas evil dissipates and is forgotten, goodness is rooted in eternity. Given this precept, we should be outraged that the messianic age isn’t here yet. As one sweaty, slightly inebriated friend said to me amidst the revelry on Simchat Torah, “We’re such nice people! What is God waiting for?”

The era of the messianic redemption will come speedily, much like our exodus from Egypt transpired with such great haste that we couldn’t even wait for our bread to bake. But it will only seem sudden. The roots of this transformation go back to the life of Avraham, the survival of his nephew Lot, the heroism of Ruth and the birth of King David. Our third exile is ending in the miraculous homecoming party that is the modern State of Israel. The seeds of Torah have now been sown worldwide with more people studying in more locations than ever in history. Jews exert undo influence in business and media and Jewish parlance is the lingua franca of Western Civilization. Maimonides views the advent of Christianity as an integral vehicle to spread awareness of monotheism and messianism to all nations. Science and technology have given us PCs, iPhones and the Internet; we realize more than ever that we are all connected and inter-dependent. Whereas it seemed that the former Soviet Union collapsed overnight, it’s demise had been festering over decades. So too will this “new age” seemingly spring upon us, leaving us shocked and surprised and even laughing at the degree of transition. Only in the aftermath will we be able look back and perceive the steady progression towards our yet unimaginable destiny.

So hopefully by now you see that discussing the messiah is very Jewish and very normal. It isn’t a crutch or a fairy tale but is our raison d’être as a nation. Working towards redemption gives our lives direction and meaning and assuages Jewish suffering over the millennia when it is seen as a function of this ultimate goal. Even the agnostics among us possess God-given messianic impulses. Just like we know we have a pulse, we know we are driven towards making the world better, to fostering the triumph of good over evil. We entertain this phenomenon every time we see a movie where the hero wins! God has given us this incredible drive towards tikkun olam…we are willing to sacrifice our lives to make it happen. Ask a Darwinian evolutionist to explain that! I believe this drive is universal but is particularly active in the Jewish neshama. God has instilled it within us so that we will not accept mediocrity, we don’t stand idly by our neighbor’s blood, we can’t rest until we accomplish something monumental. So yes, we have to discuss our redemption destiny, pray for it and in the words of Maimonides, wait daily for its coming. The Talmud echoes this sentiment; it states that one of the first questions with which we are challenged when we leave this mortal coil is, “Did you yearn for the arrival of the Messiah?”

A prerequisite for redemption is that we desire redemption. That’s a byproduct of our powerful gift of free choice. Unfortunately we have been in exile so long we have lost the yearning to flourish in our own land. We get so comfortable in our suburban refugee camps that we forget that we’re only “passing through.” The price of immersion in the Diaspora is a disconnection with our essential mission statement to be a “light unto nations.” Even Israelis lose focus and pray to reach the Promised Land of Hollywood or the Golden Medina of New York. Tragically, reaching a state of peace and tranquility with our Arab cousins in the Middle East seems more distant than ever. Perhaps God is trying to nudge Israelis to an awareness that davening for Mashiach is the only way; in the words of Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, “We are stuck in a very unfortunate position, we try to move to right, left, forward, retreat and the way is blocked…we are surrounded on every side…there is one direction, however, that is not closed: upward.”

What should we expect from this imminent spiritual revolution? According to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, “The age of Mashiach is not something separate from our times. It is pieced together from everything we do now, and all that we know of shall remain. Only the negativity will vanish, and the Godliness within each thing will be obvious to see.” The promise of our Torah is that our heart will be circumcised. Yes, our heart has a foreskin and no we won’t need a Mohel. This impediment to spirituality is the voice that tells you “maybe there is no God” or “no one will care if I don’t claim cash on my taxes.” That inclination to do the wrong thing, the Yetzer Harah, is a gift from God so that we grow from the lifelong struggle over lethargy and self-centeredness and feel a sense of triumph whenever we are victorious. That’s what we are going to lose. We will be less egotistical, narcissistic, selfish and miserly. We will unite as a Jewish People and with total clarity of God’s presence, denominational strife will vanish. (Of course, there will still be that synagogue in which we won’t set foot.) Mashiach will be a charismatic, brilliant, world famous leader who becomes the undisputed king of Israel. Hard to imagine the Knesset unanimous about anything, but that’s the idea. Just as an example of the messiah’s power: war will cease to exist AND Israel’s borders will expand. According to Rabbi Manis Friedman, we will be continuously head over heels in love with our Creator, spouse, children and fellow humans, seeing only a unified state of reality and the deepest inner beauty. Sounds a lot like a summer music festival but without the drugs.

And that brings us full circle back to Sukkot. We pray for Mashiach three times a day in our Amidah, every time we eat bread, every time we say the Aleynu prayer. But the capitol of messiah awareness is during this holiday when we leave our fortified homes to live in a fragile hut protected only by God’s grace. Passover corresponds with the First Temple, Shavuot with the Second and Sukkot with the Third Temple that will be built by Mashiach. Sukkot is also known as Chag Ha’asif, the gathering holiday when we collect the bounty of our harvest in gratitude to our Heavenly Provider. Asif also refers to the joyful gathering of Jews during the holiday and the ultimate gathering when we are all brought on “wings of eagles (read El Al)” at the time of our redemption. Over Sukkot we read the prophet Zechariah’s frightening prediction of wars that will precede this age of everlasting peace. The name of the leader of the enemy camp is Gog, which can be translated as roof. It’s the roof people, those who put their faith in technology and material wealth, versus us, the schach people, those who know that ultimately God is the true source of security. The nations that survive this ultimate battle will join the Jewish People in Israel to rejoice and give thanks every Sukkot. Some folks don’t want to wait for Mashiach; one of the highlights of Sukkot in the Holy Land is witnessing the hundred thousand gentile pilgrims who parade through the streets of Jerusalem at this time every year.

Let me conclude with a sweet story I heard this Sukkot from the brilliant and eloquent Rabbi Tzvi Freeman who has made the Happy Minyan his home base. Right before candlelighting on Sh’mini Atzeret, the holiday that immediately follows the week of Sukkot, the rabbi’s son was in our local Marriott and overheard the discussion of a family from Israel with a clerk at the front desk. They had a reservation but no credit card with them and the clerk was adamant that they could not check in without it. The rabbi’s son seized the opportunity to do an amazing mitzvah: he approached the panicked couple and offered to get a credit card so that they could check in. He sprinted home and asked his dad for the car keys so that he could hurry back with the credit card. Rabbi Freeman told his son that he would take care of it…he wanted the mitzvah for himself! But his son insisted and followed through with this heroic act. In the aftermath the rabbi realized it was a far superior mitzvah with his son doing the action. After all, he learned such sacred behavior from his exalted parents, and what nachas for the parents to see that their son was not just doing the minimum but was actively elaborating on this opportunity for chesed (kindness.)

The rabbi then reflected on the incredible pride that God must feel for his treasured nation on Simchat Torah. We take our beloved Torah out of the ark and dance with it all night in interwoven, chaotic circles of joyful abandon. That’s right…we dance with a book! What other nation dances with books? We have never been commanded to do so. It’s “just a custom.” But what a custom! Just like the rabbi’s son took Divine service to a new, innovative level, that’s what we do on this most blissful of holidays. May all of us go beyond the letter of the law and bring our utmost to our holy service; that’s the type of nachas that will surely speed the day of our redemption.

So don’t be afraid of Mashiach. Call it Tikkun Olam, call it the New World Order. Take a few minutes in your prayers, after you ask for all the “me” stuff like health and livelihood, and pour your heart out to the Almighty that there has been ENOUGH suffering in the world and it’s time for peace. Be CHUTZPADIK! God, please, don’t make us wait any more. Let no one else go hungry, let no on else become a victim of senseless violence, protect the weak, protect our planet. Help us now! Heal us now! Please, God. Amen.

Getting in the Holy Spirit

Friday, May 9th, 2014
by Sam Glaser

After fifty-six monthly newsletters featuring 2500 word essays, it should be no mystery to my regular readers that I am surreptitiously writing a book. When I get to newsletter number sixty I will have assembled nearly 150,000 words or 500 novel-sized pages. Looks like I have some editing to do! My goal is to get this project launched in 2015 and the working title is The Jewish Missionary Handbook. Yes, I realize this hints to Mormons and bedroom Olympics – but the fact is that the Mormons are a great example of tirelessly spreading the good news and sex sells books. I’m very passionate about getting this heartfelt message out there: I feel that North American Jewry has lost its “mission statement” and I intend to do my part to get us back on track. The following essay will serve more or less as the opening chapter.

The Jewish People are the original missionaries in human history, with the goal of bringing the world to an loving appreciation of God, righteousness and holiness. Our deep-seated drive to teach the world about ethical monotheism is a spiritual legacy from Avraham, the first Jew. Over the millennia our attempts to missionize were thwarted by persecution and sadly we have retreated inward. At this point, before we can reignite our beacon to the nations, we have to “circle the wagons” and reclaim our critical message. It is my hope that the pages that follow serve as wake up call that living Jewishly 24/7 is attainable and attractive and that we can again lead by example. If we’re not living it, we can’t be giving it! I also hope that potential Jews-by-choice and those Jews-by-birth interested in returning to tradition can use this text to guide their ascent and focus on the pleasure of the process. My qualifications for writing are simple: this tome is autobiographical in nature and I am only recommending spiritual leaps that I have attempted myself. I don’t have a PhD; this is advice from the trenches, with lessons learned in the school of hard knocks during two decades of performing and teaching on the road.

To date, my newsletters have had a common theme: connecting Jews of all stripes to each other and to their Creator. Yes, I deviate from time to time to rant about childrearing, trends in music and travel adventures, but the majority of these articles focus on two basic words: “Kedoshim tihiyu,” or you shall be holy. That statement from Leviticus sums up our core national aspiration. Everything else is commentary. While our sages debate exactly what this seemingly vague mitzvah might entail, the bottom line stems from the ending of the sentence: “for I, God, your God, am holy”. Put simply, we are to strive to be God-like in our behavior. Every circumstance is a “choose life” moment, a divinely orchestrated series of situations in which we are challenged to choose wisely. In other words, “What would Moses do?” is the question to keep on our tongues.

Striving for holiness requires that we define our terms. The first thing that comes to my mind when thinking about holiness is the angelic realms or the High Priest doing the Temple service on Yom Kippur. The Kotzker Rebbe reminds us that an exhortation to holiness in the book of Exodus uses the term “people of holiness shall you be,” in other words, holiness isn’t just for priests and angels. Within the context of our messy, mistake-ridden humanity we are to emulate the angels. In fact, “kedoshim tihiyu” was delivered not from Moshe to Aharon or to the elders, but from Moshe to the entire assembly. This lesson is for ALL of us. Reform, Conservative and Orthodox Jews, all those who are “opting in” to actively celebrating our heritage, must make holiness the first priority.

The root of the word kodesh means separation. That root is in many important Hebrew words that employ this same integral meaning: Kaddish serves to divide our prayer services and Kedushin is the word for marriage wherein two people separate themselves from all others. The first time holiness is mentioned in the Torah is right at the top with the creation of the day of rest. Sure enough, with the Kiddush we verbally disconnect Shabbat or Yom Tov from regular days. Do you see a pattern here? Immediately after telling us to be holy, God lists all the sexual pairings that are forbidden, yet another separation. The laws  involving kashrut sanctify us as a holy nation AND separate us from the other nations. Yes, that sounds politically incorrect in a melting pot society. But if God’s treasured nation loses its holiness/separation, we assimilate, intermarry and eventually lose our ability to keep the light on, that is, the light unto nations that has so fundamentally transformed western civilization.

The key to holiness is abstention. In truth, abstention sounds like a bummer. Who wants to be a party pooper? It’s clear, however, that the greatest rewards in life are gained through abstention. Marital bliss and the resulting gift of children can only take place when one abstains from extramarital affairs. Accessing the deepest potential of the Sabbath and holidays requires a long list of abstentions. In fact, the way we celebrate is largely framed in the negative by the things we CANNOT do. We then fill the empty space that remains with nurturing activities like prayer, long meals and family time that otherwise wouldn’t be possible. God seems to be teaching us the invaluable lesson that most worthwhile endeavors involve postponing immediate gratification for a brighter future. I’m reminded of the research study wherein children tempted with delicious marshmallows would receive extra ones if they could wait. The kids were tracked throughout their lives and those who were able to abstain from the treats for a certain period of time were the most successful in life.

Whereas Rashi claims that a state of holiness is the result of abstaining from the illicit sexual acts that are enumerated in the rest of the Kedoshim parsha, Ramban argues that holiness arises from abstaining from those things that are ARE permitted to us. He points out that one can keep kosher and still be a slovenly glutton. This teaches that holiness involves balance. Eat kosher food, but don’t be a pig! Learn Torah, but don’t be a snob. Make a fortune, but give tzedakah. We may be a separate nation that “dwells apart,” but we are loving and tolerant to others. In the search for holiness it’s tempting to go to extremes or attempt asceticism but as the Rambam states, the key is to remain integrated with one’s community and to walk on the “shvil hazahav” or a balanced path. Perhaps the best biblical example of the importance of balance can be found in the laws of becoming a Nazir (one who feels the need to get super-frum for a period of time.) One might think that undertaking “extra” commandments is commendable but remarkably, when one completes the Nazirite period, he or she must bring a sin offering.

Our sages divide our commandments into positive and negative. Thou shalt vs. thou shalt not. The “shalt” category is simply a list of 248 divine pathways for connection at our disposal. The 365 “shalt nots” are those activities that will clog up those divine pathways. Stop for a moment and ponder that the next mitzvah you do, even giving a buck to a beggar, is opening a divine pathway to holiness. The grand total is a God-given 613 commandments (and not 613 “suggestions!”) They are the key to retaining holiness. Yes, it is worthwhile to debate the nuances of observance, but not at the expense of simple faith and service. The mitzvot are our most invaluable inheritance. Every single mitzvah you do has “angels doingbackflips.” Some claim that this system is archaic, valid only in biblical times or that Judaism today is a vestigial rabbinic construct. I’d like to argue that more than ever these principles are crucial for understanding the world, staying married, staying in shape, taking a weekly break from technology/media and igniting our imperiled national spark.

In fact, I believe that the net result of learning about holiness and applying the lessons leads to nothing short of a Matrix-style taking of the red pill. One enters a new realm, a powerful, palpable parallel universe. A realm filled with joy and tranquility. Even when everything seems to be going wrong! This transformation is the logical result of entering the path that God has created for his chosen people. Electrons have distinct pathways, planets have orbits, a forest left on its own will flourish. We humans are utterly miraculous in terms of the inexplicable design of our bodies and souls, the pinnacle of God’s creation. Of course we too have a path! We call it halacha, which literally means “the pathway” and is the term for the body of Jewish law. Seen this way, law isn’t confining or strict, it’s liberating! Taking on mitzvot with intention, understanding and balance can launch us on a trajectory where one can soar with God. Prayer becomes a mind-blowing tool of sweet partnership and dialog. Human interaction becomes refined and enlightened. Sounds utopian, right?

When we walk with God we can immediately perceive when we are off track. We feel the disconnection in our bones. I used to arrive at the synagogue on the High Holidays and wonder what I was doing there. I’m a “good person” after all! Why get on this woolen suit in the heat of late summer and stand here for hours with people I only see once a year? Transitioning to a mitzvah-focused life in my mid-twenties changed all that. Slowly but surely I was becoming spiritually sensitized to my own holy path and could intuit with some degree of confidence when I had strayed. It wasn’t about being ridden with guilt or feeling like I had to please my parents. Now I was in shul on the holiest day of the year with twenty-five precious hours to set things straight with my beloved Creator and best friend. Striving for holiness restores our internal compass. It clears the muck that clouds the glass and resets our magnetic north.

King David summarizes the formula for entry into holy space in the Psalm: “Sur meyrah v’asey tov.” Run from evil and do good. That’s it. Distance yourself from doing negative commandments and actively do the positive ones. Easy, right? Part of running from evil requires clarification of what is evil in the first place, and remaining vigilant against our temptation to the allure of the “dark side.” One might think that 613 commandments are more than enough. (Some think 10 are more than enough!) Well, there is much more to it; our rabbis have instituted a system of fences to keep us from trampling on the mitzvot and enhance our chances of successfully accomplishing “sur meyrah.” These fences are an integral part of halacha and negotiating them requires learning the nuances with a qualified rabbi. “Sur meyrah v’asey tov” also informs the teshuva (return) experience…until we stop the mistake we are making, only then can we apologize and resolve not to repeat it. I immerse in a mikvah before Shabbat each week and it is upon these words that I meditate while underwater.

There are two pitfalls I want to disavow: one is the misconception of personal limitations keeping one out of the game. That’s the voice in your head that says, “But I’m too ______ (fill in the blank with “bad at Hebrew, broke, far from a synagogue, depressed, busy, annoyed…”) My friends, there are 613 mitzvot to choose from. Start with one and make it your own. Do it for the wrong reason (guilt, shame, because I told you to, to make money, you are afraid God will strike you down) and eventually it will become a natural part of your life for the right reason. Don’t wait for a miracle or a patient rabbi to appear. Be the person in your group of friends who joins a synagogue, takes a stand for Shabbat, doesn’t eat shrimp. One of my favorite lines in the Torah is, “it is not hidden from you and it is not distant. It is not in heaven…nor is it over the sea…rather the matter is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart.”

The other pitfall is feeling that the “yoke of heaven” is a burden. Sure, no one wants a yoke around his or her neck! But a yoke allows oxen to plow and thereby bring sustenance and hopefully abundance into the world. Remember that all these rules and regulations are really our freedom, a source of pleasure and joy. Our sages point out that our biblical heroes lost their access to prophecy when they weren’t in a place of joy. You can see it in the text, for example, when during the twenty-two years Jacob was mourning Joseph he never spoke to God. We are trying to open our spiritual channels to perceive holiness. If observance is making you sad then it is counterproductive. Get out, lighten up, try another mitzvah, try another synagogue, try another community. Torah is “our life and the length of our days.” We are commanded to serve God with happiness and all the calamities mentioned in our holy texts only occur when we fail to do so.

Once the Jewish world gets its collective act together I believe anything is possible. An end to war, hunger, misery. We are seeing this come to fruition in our own times. So much remarkable technology emanates from our beloved Promised Land. Jewish Harvard professors teach the world about happiness. Zany Chabad rabbis on TVenlighten non-Jewish families about shalom bayit (peace in the home.) An unbroken chain of Jewish Federal Reserve chairmen keeps the world economy afloat. Now if we would just learn how to get along as a People, we could truly teach the world about peace. I have found that the most successful members of clergy (in all Jewish denominations) are those that eshew the ivory tower in order to get in the trenches helping congregants do mitzvot. We have tolerated enough Pew reports and population studies to see that promoting Judaism removed from mitzvot and the resulting gift of holiness is like trying to animate a body without a spine. Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach used to say that kids are leaving synagogues not because they don’t want religion, but because they DO want religion. Jewish unity is the final cornerstone of our grand mission and I believe we won’t find that elusive unity until we learn to celebrate our differences and rally around Torah.

So there’s the mission statement. Now on to the commentary.  Enjoy the adventures in the book. I had to endure over a thousand flights (in coach!) to bring you these stories and insights. Every month I swore I wouldn’t write another newsletter. But I did. Step by step over the past six years I worked towards a goal of writing a book about my passion in life. Baby steps, persistence and patience are the key elements to reaching any goal. So too with our collective quest for holiness and redemption. That’s why Jacob saw a ladder and not a rocket ship. You’ve got to sweat the climbing, one rung at a time. I hope this humble manuscript will encourage you to “take it up a notch” in your quest for holiness and connection. I welcome all of you to share with me your personal journeys, both the triumphs and crises. We can learn so much from one another. I’m so grateful that you have taken the time to share my journey.