Miriam's Blogathon

12:55 pm - Donations still being accepted!

Well, it's the next day and I've gotten some sleep. If you're just coming across this blog now, don't worry; donations for the Chabad Jewish Student Center at Arizona State University will still be accepted until Tuesday, July 31st at 9:00pm Pacific time.

As an added bonus, here's a link to Chabad's Daily Torah Study page!

Current Mood: working

08:58 pm - Whew! 49, and A Single Bar of Gold

For the 49th (and final) post, a bit about the number 49 in Judaism

(Even though the Blogathon is now over, you can still donate to the Arizona State University Chabad House.)

I also want to thank all of you who have watched my blogging - tinx (whose blogathon journal is at guillainbarre), and starburstgal my Monitor! You guys have been a great support! Also, thank you to tinx for donating!

And now, the 49th post...

A Single Bar of Gold

By Lazer Gurkow


The Menorah


As a rabbi in a small community, I am often approached by congregants, who need to recite the Kaddish, for help with minyan1 recruitment. Before I agree to recruit, I always ask the congregant to rally his own friends first. Often the congregant will recruit one or two friends, leaving me to recruit the balance, which raises the question, why do I bother asking for help?

The same question could be asked of G-d during a curious episode that occurred during the building of the Tabernacle and its golden candelabra. G-d described the intricate design to Moses, but Moses did not understand. G-d explained it again, drew a picture and even offered to help build it, but all to no avail. In the end, Moses tossed the gold into the fire and the candelabra miraculously emerged.2

G-d must have known that he would eventually build it himself, so why did he ask Moses to build it?

Understanding the Design

A simpler question is what was so difficult about the design that G-d, the greatest teacher of all time, could not make Moses, the greatest student of all time, comprehend?

Moses actually understood the design very well. There were seven branches and forty- nine adornments. What he failed to comprehend was why these separate components were meant to be hammered from a single bar of gold. The idea that plurality and singularity can be wed defies human logic.3

The mystics taught that the seven branches and forty-nine adornments of the candelabra correspond to the seven weeks, or forty-nine days, between Passover, when our ancestors were redeemed from Egypt, and Shavuot, when they received the Torah at Sinai.

The Torah instructs us to count the days of this seven-week period. Seven weeks amount to forty-nine days, yet in a separate verse the Torah instructs us to count fifty days. How can we count fifty days in a forty-nine day period? The mystics tell us that the fiftieth day was counted by G-d when he gave us the Torah.4

Beyond the Human Grasp

Receiving the Torah requires forty-nine steps of preparation. Only after completing all forty-nine steps do we become worthy of receiving the fiftieth step, the Torah, that G-d bestows upon us from above.

Every law in the Torah is of such complex scholarship that it can be understood from as many as forty-nine different perspectives. It requires tremendous diligence to comprehend and internalize such depth. It requires a quest to grow every day until we reach the highest wisdom accessible to the human mind. The forty-nine-day count thus represents the quest.

There is another element in Torah that is beyond our intellectual grasp, namely, G-d, its author. The Torah's information can be grasped intellectually, but connecting with its author requires humility.

The fiftieth day, the day that only G-d can count, represents the divine aura of the Torah's authorship. This is an element we cannot count for ourselves. This is an element we will never understand. Yet, if we count for forty-nine days, if we apply ourselves to the forty-nine perspectives of Torah, G-d will bestow the fiftieth perspective from above.

When we reach the fiftieth day, we acquire an entirely new perspective. We then realize that the forty-nine perspectives are not unique to each other, in fact they all flow from a common foundation, a single kernel of divine wisdom that shines through a prism of forty-nine colors. We cannot arrive at this wisdom on our own, we receive it from G-d, who bestows it from above.

Becoming a Vessel

If the goal of Torah study is to connect to its Author and if such connection can never be achieved on our own cognizance, but must be bestowed from above, then why should we study the Torah in the first place? Let G-d bestow it from above! In other words, what do the forty-nine steps accomplish if they fail to catapult us to the fiftieth?

They turn us into recipients. You see, G-d doesn't want scholars, he wants students. He doesn't want accomplished teachers, he wants elevated souls. He doesn't want our profound comprehension, he wants our transformed characters.

G-d's purpose is that we become vessels and conduits for his holiness, and to do that we must apply ourselves. The toil, the yearning, the desperation and the earnest desire for G-d is what turns an ego into a vessel. This is accomplished during the forty-nine days.5

Elegance of Singularity

The candelabra's forty-nine adornments were beautiful and meaningful. Their graceful forms, flowing symmetry, profound meaning and metaphoric value inspired Moses to great passion. Each was significant, each contributed, each deserved its own place.

"Why must they all be hammered from a single bar of gold," his tender soul wailed. "Why blemish their distinctive beauty by the stark uniformity of a single bar?" The adornments were unique and Moses grieved for a pluralism that he felt should have been celebrated.

Pluralism and singularity are polar opposites and only G-d can wed them. Moses understood the forty-nine adornments, but the one piece of gold was the secret of the fiftieth, a secret only G-d could understand.

No explanation could make Moses understand, yet G-d tried to explain it and Moses tried to grasp it over and over again. This diligence was Moses' true hallmark and in its merit Moses became G-d's conduit for the light of the candelabra and for the light of the Torah.6

This is also why I ask my congregants to recruit their friends for the Minyan. They may not rally many friends, but I know that their efforts help them appreciate, if not identify with, the significance of prayer and of Minyan. Who knows? They may even respond with enthusiasm the next time they are themselves recruited.



FOOTNOTES
1. A minyan is a quorum of ten Jewish men, required to recite the Kaddish, a memorial prayer for the dead.
2. Midrash Tanchumah, Shemini 3; Midrash Rabbah, Bamidbar 15:4. See also Rashi and Nachmanides on Exodus 28:31 and on Numbers 8:4.
3. Tzemach Tzeddek (Sefer Halikutim, Erech Menorah, p. 861). For a slightly different interpretation see the Lubavitcher Rebbe's Likuttei Sichot, Vol. I, p. 174.
4. Likutei Torah, Bamidbar,10a.
5. See Sfat Emnet, 1871; Maharal on Torah, Exodus 28:31.
6. See Midrah Rabbah, Shemote 36:2-3 and Bamidbar 15:4-5.



By Lazer Gurkow More articles... |


Rabbi Lazer Gurkow is spiritual leader of congregation Beth Tefilah in London, Ontario. He has lectured extensively on a variety of Jewish topics, and his articles have appeared in many print and online publications. For more on Rabbi Gurkow and his wrtings, visit InnerStream.ca.


The content on this page is copyrighted by the author, publisher and/or Chabad.org, and is produced by our content partner, Chabad.org. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with the copyright policy.

08:28 pm - To The Point of Self-Sacrifice

The Blogathon is almost over, but donations are still being accepted!

“To the Point of Self Sacrifice”

Told by the Lubavitcher Rebbe
Courtesy of MeaningfulLife.com


It was during Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak's younger years, when the Czarist regime still ruled the Russian Empire. A new decree against the Jewish community was in the works, aimed at forcing changes in the structure of the rabbinate and Jewish education. Rabbi Sholom DovBer (the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe) dispatched his son, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, to the Russian capital of Petersburg to prevent the decree from being enacted. When Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak asked how long he was to stay in Petersburg, his father replied, "to the point of self-sacrifice."

Upon his arrival in Petersburg, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak learned that the decree had already reached the desk of Stalinin, the interior minister of Russia and arguably the most powerful man in the Russian Empire. The ruling Czar's intelligence (or lack thereof) made him a virtual rubber stamp for whichever minister the prevailing political climate favored; at the that particular time, His Highness was led by the nose by Interior Minister Stalinin, a heartless tyrant and rabid antisemite who was personally responsible for many of the devastating pogroms which were "arranged" for the Jews of Russia in those years.

Living in Petersburg was an elderly scholar, a former teacher and mentor of the Interior Minister. Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak succeeded in befriending this man, who was greatly impressed by the scope and depth of the young chassid's knowledge. For many an evening the two would sit and talk in the old man's study.

One day, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak told his new friend the purpose of his stay in Petersburg and pleaded with him to assist him in reaching the Interior Minister. The old scholar replied: "To speak with him would be useless. The man has a cruel and malicious heart, and I have already severed all contact with this vile creature many years ago. But there is one thing I can do for you. Because of my status as Stalinin's mentor, I have been granted a permanent entry pass into the offices of the interior ministry. I need not explain to you the consequences, for both of us, if you are found out. But I have come to respect you and what you stand for, and I have decided to help you."

When Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak presented the pass at the interior ministry, the guard on duty was stupefied: few were the cabinet-level ministers granted such a privilege, and here stands a young chassid, complete with beard, sidelocks, chassidic garb and Yiddish accent, at a time when to even reside in Petersburg was forbidden to Jews. But the pass was in order, so he waved him through.

Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak entered the building and proceeded to look for Stalinin's office. Those whom he asked for directions could only stare at the strange apparition confidently striding the corridors of the interior ministry. Soon he located the minister's office at the far end of a commanding hallway on the fourth floor of the building.

As Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak walked toward the office, the door opened and Stalinin himself walked out and closed the door behind him. The rebbe's son and the interior minister passed within a few feet of each other. Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak made straight for the office, opened the door, and walked in.

After a quick search, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak located the documents pertaining to the decree in Stalinin's desk. On the desk sat two ink stamps, bearing the words 'APPROVED' or 'REJECTED' above the minister's signature and seal. Quickly, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak stamped the proposed decree 'REJECTED' and inserted the papers into a pile of vetoed documents which sat in a tray on the desk. He then left the room, closed the door behind him, and walked out of the building.





Told by the Lubavitcher Rebbe More articles... |


Translated by Yanki Tauber in Once Upon A Chassid (Kehot 1994)

Originally published in "Week in Review"
Republished with the permission of MeaningfulLife.com. If you wish to republish this article in a periodical, book, or website, please email permissions@meaningfullife.com


The content on this page is copyrighted by the author, publisher and/or Chabad.org, and is produced by our content partner, Chabad.org. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with the copyright policy.

Current Mood: excited

07:56 pm - Too Good To Be Good

Welcome to all who have come from the front page!

If you enjoy the articles I've posted, a donation would be very much appreciated!


Too Good To Be Good

Told by Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch


At a Chassidic get-together (farbrengen) held in the early years of Chabad Chassidism, Reb Shmuel Munkes was doing the honors. The merry Chassid danced about the participants, pouring the vodka and serving the farbiesen -- the food to follow up the l'chayim's.

Among the dishes which had arrived from the kitchen of Reb Nosson the shochet was a bowl of roasted lung, a most tasty delicacy. But for some reason, Reb Shmuel was reluctant to part with this particular dish. Throughout the evening he pranced about, pouring the l'chayim's and serving the food, with the bowl of roasted lung snug and elusive under his arm, deftly side-stepping all attempts to free it from his grasp.

Soon the Chassidim grew weary of Reb Shmuel's game and demanded outright that he hand over the bowl and its mouth-watering contents. But the waiting Chassid ignored their angry demands and kept up his dodging dance. Finally, a few of the younger Chassidim decided that Reb Shmuel's prank had gone on long enough. They rose from the table, and soon the bowl and its bearer were cornered. But with a final leap and twist, Reb Shmuel dumped the roasted lung into the spittoon, and broke out in a merry k'zatzkeh dance.

The younger Chassidim sat to consider the gravity of Reb Shmuel's crime and decreed that a few well placed stripes were in order. Without batting an eye, Reb Shmuel stretched himself out on the table and received his due. He then set out in search of more farbiesen to keep the farbrengen going. But the hour was late, and the best he could come up with was a plate of pickled cabbage donated by one of the Li'ozna residents.

Upon seeing the replacement dish, the expressions on the faces of those who had already imagined the taste of roasted lung grew as sour as the kraut set before them. But soon a commotion was heard in the hallway. The town's butcher ran in, a most stricken look on his face: "Jews! Don't eat the lung!" he cried. "There has been a terrible mistake." It seems that the butcher was out of town and the butcher's wife mistakenly gave the shochet's wife a non-kosher lung to roast for the farbrengen.

Now it was the elder Chassidim who sat in judgment upon Reb Shmuel. The audacity of a Chassid to play the wonder-rabbi! By what rights had Reb Shmuel taken it upon himself to work miracles? Up onto the table with you, Reb Shmuel, decreed the court.

After receiving his due for the second time that evening, Reb Shmuel explained: "G-d forbid, I had no 'inside information' regarding the roasted lung. But when I entered into yechidut (private audoience) with the Rebbe for the first time, I resolved that no material desire would ever dictate to me. So I trained myself not to allow anything physical to overly attract me.

"When the bowl of roasted lung arrived, I found that my appetite was most powerfully roused. I also noticed that the same was true of many around the table. To be so strongly drawn by a mere piece of meat? I understood that something was not right."





Told by Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch More articles... |


Translated by Yanki Tauber in Once Upon A Chassid (Kehot 1994)


The content on this page is copyrighted by the author, publisher and/or Chabad.org, and is produced by Chabad.org. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with the copyright policy.

Current Mood: okay

07:29 pm - It's About Time

There's still plenty of time to donate to the Arizona State University Chabad House.

It's About Time

By Lorne Rozovsky


It is in people's nature to want to know exactly when something occurred, or when it is going to occur. That's why they invented the calendar.

Today, the entire world uses the Gregorian calendar. Still, the Jewish calendar is used along with about 40 other calendar systems throughout the world.

Established by Pope Gregory in 1582, the Gregorian calendar was influenced by the Jewish calendar. Its main purpose was to replace the older Julian calendar of 45 BCE. Over time, the celebration of Easter had drifted away from its springtime position and its proximity to Passover. In Christian theology, the two celebrations are linked.

The Gregorian is a solar calendar based on the tropical year of the sun and the seasons. Unlike the Jewish calendar, it ignores lunar cycles.

Initially, Protestants refused to follow the new Gregorian calendar, though eventually they fell into line. Eastern Orthodox Christians continue to follow the Julian calendar.

In Israel, there is no legally official calendar. However, all government documents and correspondence use both the Jewish and Gregorian.

The United States has also never adopted an official calendar. Its acceptance of the Gregorian is based on a British Act of Parliament of 1751.

Most calendars number the years in relation to an historical event. Some systems count the years according to the tenure of a reigning monarch. Even Britain, which uses the Gregorian calendar, cited acts of Parliament passed before 1963 by the year of the monarch's reign. A 1925 act would be cited as 15 & 16 Geo.5 (the 15th and 16th year of the reign of King George V).

In the Gregorian calendar, the year number was supposed to designate the number of years since the birth of Jesus. For this reason, the year was always followed by the Latin 'AD' (meaning: "In the year of our Lord'). Scholars however, think that Jesus was actually born several years before the first calendar year. Jews and many others when using the Gregorian year refer to that period as CE, or "Common Era". The designation BC ("Before Christ") has been replaced with BCE ("Before the Common Era").

The Jewish calendar ensured that religious festivals occurred during the appropriate seasons. Tradition has that it was divinely given. Year number is based on the year of Creation. This would have placed the traditional Jewish date of Creation, according to the Gregorian calendar, on Sunday, September 6, 3761 BCE.

All calendars had to be adjusted every so often so that religious celebrations did not move out of place. The Jewish calendar has an elaborate system to keep lunar months in line with solar seasons.

Like other calendars, it is set up in a cyclical format. It repeats itself every 19 years during which an additional month is added in years three, six, eight, 11, 14, 17 and 19. Each year consists of 12 or 13 months, with each month having 29 or 30 days. When a leap year occurs, the month of Adar with 29 days, increases to 30. The additional month of Adar II is added with 29 days.

Some years are regarded as "deficient" and some as "complete." In a complete year, the number of days in the month of Cheshvan changes from 29 to 30, and in a deficient year Kislev changes from 30 to 29. By contrast, the Gregorian calendar repeats itself every 400 years.

Based on the story of Creation, each week in the Jewish calendar has seven days. The days do not have names, with the exception of the seventh, Shabbat. The entire week leads up to Shabbat. The Gregorian calendar copied this seven-day week.

Both the Gregorian and Jewish years have 12 months, except in a Jewish leap year. The Gregorian year begins January 1st. The Hebrew year begins on the 1st day of the month of Tishrei, the holiday of Rosh Hashanah. The year number changes on that date. The first month is actually Nissan, which occurs in the spring.

The Gregorian day starts at midnight, whereas the Jewish day begins at sundown. Hours are divided into 1080 chalakim (parts). Each celek is 3 1/3 seconds. Throughout the world, all time is set by Greenwich (England) Mean Time, or what is now called Universal Time. In the Jewish calendar, mean time is that of the meridian of Jerusalem.

The Jewish calendar developed a rather complicated system for specific religious reasons (i.e. so that Yom Kippur would not fall the day before or after Shabbat). These adjustments are called dechiyot (postponements).

Ordinarily, the Jewish year consists of 50 weeks plus three, four or five days, depending on the calendar designation of what sort of year it is, as compared to the Gregorian year of 52 weeks. A Jewish leap year, which adds an extra month is 54 weeks plus, five, six or seven days.

The origins of the Jewish calendar are uncertain, though we do know that the basic rules were set down by Hillel II around 400 CE.

When Jews were exiled in Babylon in 600 BCE, they were exposed to the Babylonian calendar. Certain similarities exist between it and the Jewish calendar. The 19-year cycle is common to both. Many of the names of the months are similar. The Babylonian month of Nisannu is the Jewish month of Nisan. Addaru becomes Adar, Tishritu is Tishri, and Abu is Av. This serves as a reminder to many Jews of the exile in Babylon.

The Jewish calendar is lunisolar, combining the cycles of the sun and the moon. The Islamic calendar is purely lunar. It also has a seven-day week and 12 months, with the years beginning from the Era of the Hijra, the migration of Mohammed and his followers from Mecca to Medina in 622 CE. A 30-year cycle is used with 11 leap years in each cycle. As with the Jewish calendar, the day begins at sunset.

Other societies have developed calendars. Calendar reform took place in India in 1957 that established a lunisolar calendar, in which leap years coincide with the Gregorian calendar. Holidays are set according to local and ethnic traditions.

China also uses the Gregorian calendar for administrative purposes, but the traditional Chinese calendar is used for festivals. Of all the calendars, the Chinese is one of the oldest, dating back to the Shang Dynasty of 1400 BCE. Before the 1911 revolution, years were counted from the accession of an emperor.

The Aztecs of Latin America also had a sophisticated calendar system linked to agricultural cycles and various religious ceremonies. It had 18 months, each with 20 days, each week consisting of five days. Its year had 365 days, which included five empty days when all normal activities would cease.

Since many Jews today plan their lives according to the Gregorian calendar, they rely on the calendars they receive from organizations like Chabad to know when to celebrate Passover, Sukkot or the High Holidays, and all the festivals central to Jewish life.


By Lorne Rozovsky More articles... |


Lorne E. Rozovsky is a Lawyer, author, educator, a health management consultant and a curious Jew. He could be contacted via his web site rozovsky.com.

This article is based on the author's article which originally appeared in The Jewish News, Richmond, Virginia.


The content on this page is copyrighted by the author, publisher and/or Chabad.org, and is produced by Chabad.org. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with the copyright policy.

07:05 pm - Hand Signs of the Jew

Hand Signs of the Jew

By Lorne Rozovsky


Throughout history, many societies have had secret, and not-so-secret hand signs. These hand signs have religious, political, cultural and social meanings. The origins and significance have often been lost to history, even when the signs are still used.

Some signs are used to communicate information, either of support like the thumb's up sign, or two thumbs up, or that of an insult. Signs differ from culture to culture. The same sign may have a very different meanings in different societies. For the international traveler, this may cause embarrassment, and even conflict.

There are also signs used as part of an organized political, military or religious group. The military is perhaps the most famous for its hand signs, namely the salute. The form of salute varies from country to country, and military to military.

Some military salutes were adapted for civilian use, such as the salute used by Boy Scouts throughout the world. Other signs are purely civilian such as that of the Hindu greeting of placing one's hands flat against each other. Some signs have no connection with any organization, such as the "high five" used by young African-Americans and adopted by American teenagers regardless of ethnic background.

Many religions use hand expressions and signs. The more traditional Christian denominations use numerous methods of making the sign of the cross. Moslems use upraised hands and cover the face during prayer.

Why Use Signs?

Hands are used to communicate or to show signs of respect or loyalty. In the religious sense, it may be to communicate with G-d, or to make others aware of respect or obedience to G-d. A hand sign also adds a physical dimension to the religious involvement expressed by speaking, singing or chanting.

The making of a sign signifies a group or community. Those who enter and recognize the sign will know that they have entered their own community. In some communities, these signs have been secret since the members had to impart a message that would have otherwise brought them into danger.

Jewish Hand Signs

Hand signs do not play as important a role in Jewish religious practice as in some other communities. Because the signs tend to be traditional, they are used less frequently and often not at all by less traditional Jews. There are no doubt many Jews who have never seen some of the hand signs, nor do they understand their origins and purpose.

The Sign of the Priestly Blessing

Of all the Jewish hand signs, the most famous is that of the priestly blessing, the Birchat Kohanim, and yet it is rarely seen. This is the sign of both hands outstretched at shoulder height under a tallit, with the fingers spread apart, as the Kohen blesses the congregation. The Kohen's face is covered. The hands in the position of the priestly blessing are often seen as decoration on jewelry or on the tombstone of a Kohen.

The hands are held with the fingers straight ahead with the little finger of each hand separated from the ring finger and a space between the second and third fingers. There is a further space between the two thumbs, making a total of five spaces. The palms are face downwards. The right hand is placed slightly above the left. This raising of the hands during the blessing is called the nesiat kohanim.

Breast Beating

At any time during a confessional, when the words "we have sinned" or words to that effect are stated, it is the custom to beat the left breast over the heart with the right fist. Self-flagellation is common in many religions. The Jewish practice of breast beating however, is not flagellation and is not intended to be painful. It is a symbol to remind the person of the words being spoken and to encourage penitence.

Pointing at the Torah

Following the reading of the Torah, the scroll is raised while still open for all to see. Once the act of raising the Torah or hagbah takes place, some communities have the custom to point at the Torah with the small finger, others point while holding the tzitzit or fringes of one's tallit while reciting the words "and this is the Torah."

Blessings over Shabbat Candles

When Shabbat candles are lit, a ritual involving hands takes place. Usually this is done by the woman lighting the candles, though if there is no woman in the house, a man is obligated to do it. The candles are lit, and with both hands she waves the light towards her three times. The symbolism is to draw the spirit of the holiness of the Shabbat towards her. She closes her eyes, covers them with her hands, and recites the blessing. It is this sight of physical movement, bathed in the soft glow of the candles, and the faint murmur of her prayers that has been etched into the memories of so many generations of Jews.

It is often the physical aspect of a ritual that not only adds to but impresses on us the importance of the ritual, so that we remember it long after the ritual is over. That is what Jewish hand signs are all about.




By Lorne Rozovsky More articles... |


Lorne E. Rozovsky is a Lawyer, author, educator, a health management consultant and a curious Jew. He could be contacted via his web site rozovsky.com.

This article is based on the author's article which originally appeared in The Jewish News, Richmond, Virginia.


The content on this page is copyrighted by the author, publisher and/or Chabad.org, and is produced by Chabad.org. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with the copyright policy.

Current Mood: busy

06:40 pm - Jews and Shoes

Jews and Shoes

By Lorne Rozovsky


Shoes have always played a role in history and culture. Everyone knows the story of Cinderella and the glass slipper, or the tale of Puss and Boots. Remember Dorothy's magic ruby shoes in the Wizard of Oz?

Language is littered with references to shoes. We wait for the other shoe to drop, or try to experience life in another person's shoes. One has big shoes to fill when he takes on a new challenge. There is the phrase, "if the shoe fits, wear it."

Shoe design can indicate a person's wealth and social position, as reflected in the quality of material or the complexity of the workmanship used to make shoes. Shoes can show membership in a particular group, like cowboy boots or motorcycle boots. High heels make a social statement, as do a sensible pair of Oxfords. Celebrities are known for the number of pairs they own.

What one does with shoes also makes a statement. For example throwing shoes at someone is an insult.

What about Jews and shoes? The Song of Songs 7:2 reads, "How beautiful are thy feet in sandals." Shoes were considered to be so important that Rabbi Akiva instructed his son Joshua not to go barefoot. They were signs of sensuousness, comfort, luxury and pleasure.

The Talmud (Shabbat 129a) declares: "A person should sell the roof beams of his house to buy shoes for his feet."

According to the Code of Jewish law (the Shulchan Aruch), when putting on shoes, the right shoe goes on first. When tying shoes. the left shoe is tied first. When shoes are taken off, the left shoe comes off first. This custom is based on the belief that the right is more important than the left. Therefore, the right foot should not remain uncovered while the left is covered. Shoes should be tied from the left since knotted teffilin is worn on the left arm.

Since the tying of shoes is a reminder of the tying of teffilin, for those who are left handed, and who place the teffilin on their right arm, the right shoe should be tied first rather than the left, so that the tying of shoes matches the tying of teffilin.

There are times in Jewish life when the wearing of shoes is forbidden. When the priestly blessing is given in traditional synagogues, the kohanim remove their shoes outside the sanctuary before their hands are washed by the Levites and before giving the priestly blessing. Removing the shoes avoids the possibility of embarrassment in the event that one of the kohanim has a torn shoe lace and remains behind to tie his shoes while his brethren are blessing the congregation.

There is also a custom amongst certain chassidic groups to remove their (leather) shoes before approaching the gravesite of a holy person. This tradition goes back to the command to Moses when he approached the Burning Bush (Exodus 3:5), "Remove your shoes from your feet, for the place on which you stand is holy ground"

On the historic day of mourning, Tisha b'Av, Jews are prohibited from wearing leather shoes. The same prohibition applies on Yom Kippur to show remorse and penance.

In the Book of Isaiah (20:2), Isaiah is commanded to remove his sandals as a sign of mourning. Shoes also play a part in the mourning period after a death. During the period of shiva, the seven days of mourning, leather shoes may not be worn. In Talmudic times, both the pall bearers and the mourners went barefoot.

If the support of a leather shoe is necessary for medical reasons, the preservation of health overrules the prohibition. If someone has to leave the house, leather shoes may be worn, but they should be removed when the person returns home for shiva. If the mourner is going to synagogue for services during shiva, leather may also be worn, though the shoes should be removed at the synagogue.

In all of these exceptions, an unusual practice is required. When the wearing of leather is permitted, a little earth or pebble is placed in the shoes to remind the wearer that they are in mourning.

The question of shoes also arises in Jewish burials. The body of the deceased may be wearing shoes, but only if the shoes are made of linen or cotton. Most Jews are buried in a shroud which covers the feet, so the issue never arises.

Of all the Jewish customs involving shoes, the most unusual and fascinating is that of the laws of halitzah. Going back to Deuteronomy (25:5-9), when a married man dies childless, leaving an unmarried brother, the brother is obligated to marry his widowed sister-in-law. The rationale for what was called a levirate marriage was to continue the name, the assets and the soul of the deceased brother through the subsequent marriage and children.

Reference to this practice is also found in the Book of Ruth 3:4 when Naomi instructs Ruth to go to the granary at night, lie next to Boaz and to uncover his feet.

The brother could also opt to release her to marry someone else. This is the ceremony of halitzah. The widow and her brother-in-law appear before a rabbinical court, a beth din, consisting of five members. The brother-in-law wears on his right foot what is known as the halitzah shoe. This special shoe is made from the skin of a kosher animal and consists of two pieces sown together with leather threads. It must not contain metal and is designed like a moccasin with long straps.

The widow declares that her brother-in-law refuses to marry her, and he confirms it as directed in Deuteronomy (25:7 and 9). She then places her left hand on his calf, undoes the laces with her right hand, removes the shoe from his foot, throws it to the ground, and spits on the ground in front of him. The beth din then recites the formula releasing all obligations.

The shoe is a symbol of the transaction. This tradition is part of the color and romance of Jewish tradition and life.

It is also part of the spiritual tradition. The Kabbalists describe the body as "the shoe of the soul." Just as shoes protect feet from the dirt, so too does the soul require the body as a shoe to protect it during its journey in the physical world.




By Lorne Rozovsky More articles... |


Lorne E. Rozovsky is a Lawyer, author, educator, a health management consultant and a curious Jew. He could be contacted via his web site rozovsky.com.

This article is based on the author's article which originally appeared in The Jewish News, Richmond, Virginia.


The content on this page is copyrighted by the author, publisher and/or Chabad.org, and is produced by Chabad.org. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with the copyright policy.

Current Mood: busy

06:07 pm - Voice Post

VoicePost 185K 0:57

“Hello people in Lasgo(?) Land(?) & those listening to this voice post. I'm currently at the grocery store. To those of you in the Phoenix area, you might be interested to know that the local fries has bean & chip boritos(?) & also chili & cheese borito's that are ___. The ___ City Cafe, & yeah frozen section & they're pretty good. It's alright 2 19. Anyway, for those of you who keep ___ it's an interesting option. Yeah & so that's a little bit for this Voice Post.” Auto-Transcribed Voice Post - spoken through SpinVox

05:27 pm - The Thirteen Principles of Faith

There's still time to donate to the Chabad Jewish Student Center at Arizona State University!


The Thirteen Principles

Maimonides


The great codifier of Torah law and Jewish philosophy, Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon ("Mamonides" also known as "The Rambam"), compiled what he refers to as the Shloshah Asar Ikkarim, the "Thirteen Fundamental Principles" of the Jewish faith, as derived from the Torah. Maimonides refers to these thirteen principles of faith as "the fundamental truths of our religion and its very foundations." The Thirteen Principles of Jewish faith are as follows:

1. Belief in the existence of the Creator, who is perfect in every manner of existence and is the Primary Cause of all that exists.

2. The belief in G-d's absolute and unparalleled unity.

3. The belief in G-d's non-corporeality, nor that He will be affected by any physical occurrences, such as movement, or rest, or dwelling.

4. The belief in G-d's eternity.

5. The imperative to worship G-d exclusively and no foreign false gods.

6. The belief that G-d communicates with man through prophecy.

7. The belief in the primacy of the prophecy of Moses our teacher.

8. The belief in the divine origin of the Torah.

9. The belief in the immutability of the Torah.

10. The belief in G-d's omniscience and providence.

11. The belief in divine reward and retribution.

12. The belief in the arrival of the Messiah and the messianic era.

13. The belief in the resurrection of the dead.

It is the custom of many congregations to recite the Thirteen Articles, in a slightly more poetic form, beginning with the words Ani Maamin--"I believe"--every day after the morning prayers in the synagogue.



Maimonides More articles... |



The content on this page is copyrighted by the author, publisher and/or Chabad.org, and is produced by Chabad.org. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with the copyright policy.

04:54 pm - The Merging of Two Souls

There's still time to donate to the Chabad Jewish Student Center at Arizona State University!


The Merging of Two Souls
A Bride Describes the Experience of an Orthodox Jewish Wedding

By Sara Esther Crispe


It has been an entire week. As per our tradition, I have not seen him or spoken with him. I have not even heard his voice. And yet I have his picture in my mind, his words in my heart and his being engraved in my soul.

It is the day of our wedding and I wake early to prepare. Externally I am having my hair done, my nails, my makeup. But within I am in a completely different world. I recite psalms trying to infuse every moment with holiness. I fast as it is my personal Yom Kippur, my Day of Atonement and I ask forgiveness for my past while cleansing and preparing for our new future.


In my wedding dress I represent a queen and I pray for the ability to be a crown to my husband. Not to be his decoration, but to be the tie between his superconscious and his conscious, to enable him to be his best. Just as a crown rises above the head and yet connects with it as well, so too the Jewish woman binds together the spiritual and the physical, theory with reality. The crown rests on the temples, the most sensitive part of the head. Spiritually the woman rests on the temples as well. She is able to massage where there is pain, while simultaneously ensuring that the head does not inflate, for she serves as its borders. And yet she holds the head up high. Because she is queen she allows him to be king.

I take off my earrings, bracelet and necklace. In another room he empties his pockets, undoes his tie and unties his shoelaces. He is not marrying me for my physical beauty or external jewels. I am not marrying him for the money in his pockets. He comes to me unbound, with no ties, with no connection to anyone or anything but to me and our commitment, to each other.

The music starts and my chatan, my groom, is about to be led to me. He will cover my face with a veil, in order to shield the holiness, the Divine Presence, which rests on the face of a bride. My veil will be opaque so that I cannot see out and no one can see in. My eyes will anyway be closed to more highly sensitize my ability to think and feel. I want the utmost privacy at this moment and to not be distracted by the stares from our hundreds of guests.

By veiling me we make an important unspoken statement to one another. We recognize that we are marrying what we see, but we are also marrying what we don't see. With utmost belief we are sure that we are the other halves to our soul. Only together can we complete ourselves and complete each other. Yet it will take work, hard work. He is not the answer to my incompleteness but rather the means for me to get there. So we recognize that we love what we know and what we are aware of, but we are also marrying the parts that are hidden now from each other, and even to ourselves. We are determined to love these parts as well and to learn to understand how they are also an integral part of our healing and growth.

Finally, after the longest week of my life, my chatan, my groom, approaches me. It is almost too intense to look. I glance at my husband-to-be for a moment but then my eyes well up with tears. I can no longer see but I don't need to. We are about to be bound together. But we are not just two people. Our marriage represents the continuity of the Jewish people. We are not only about to be bound to each other, but in doing so, we bind together the past, the present and the future.

We will now reunite again under the chuppah, the marriage canopy, to become husband and wife. The canopy is open on all sides to represent how our home and hearts should be, welcoming and open to all around. We will be outside, under the stars, to bring heaven down to earth while elevating ourselves closer to heaven.

Now it is I who is led to him, as he awaits me under the chuppah. As I approach, I encircle him seven times. As there are seven days of the week culminating in the holiness of the Sabbath, so too, I will surround him, enveloping him in love and commitment, culminating with my standing by his side. Just as I am his crown which sits as a circle around his head, now I too create that bond, that foundation, that security.

In a circle all sides are equally close to its center and there exists perfect harmony. Once I have completed my seven circles, he returns to encircle me by placing an unblemished and unmarked simple gold ring on my finger. This is our 8th circle, one above the natural, the days of the week, and uniting us with the supernatural, the One Above. Seven blessings are now recited, imbuing additional holiness to our relationship and commitment. But right before we turn to celebrate with each other, with our guests, as husband and wife, we first must break a glass.

The last thing my new husband does under our wedding canopy is that he steps on this glass. It is silent and we all hear it shatter. The shattered glass represents the suffering that must always be remembered, even in our joy. Even though we are imbued with happiness, we as a people, as a world, are not in such a state. And therefore it is our responsibility to remember that as we rejoice we need to create a world where all can rejoice. And we must live our lives with a sensitivity to those less fortunate than ourselves and be grateful for all the good that has been bestowed upon us.

After the glass is broken, it is now time for us to celebrate our joy. I remove the veil, as my husband and I gaze at each other for the first time as a married couple. The music begins, our guests start singing and dancing, and we are led from the canopy to begin our new life together.





By Sara Esther Crispe More articles... |


Sara Esther Crispe, a writer, inspirational speaker and mother of four, is the editor of TheJewishWoman.org. To book Sara Esther for a speaking engagement, please click here.

Painting by Chassidic artist Zalman Kleinman.


The content on this page is copyrighted by the author, publisher and/or Chabad.org, and is produced by Chabad.org. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with the copyright policy.