Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Tisha B'Av - A Kabbalistic Approach

Tisha B'Av - A Kabbalistic Approach

Hoje às 13:04

DON'T JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER

A Kabbalistic Approach to the Tisha BaAv Experience

Rabbi Eliyahu Yaakov

For more from Rabbi Eliyahu Yaakov, go to: www.lightuntoournation.com

MAKING SENSE OF OUR SENSES

In Mishlei (Proverbs), God declares, “Happy [through personal growth] is the one who hears Me.” And in Devarim Rabbah, writings of the Sages, the Sages teach, “Happy [through growth] is the one who hears God.

The two questions that pop out at us are: 1) What does it mean to hear God? I mean, obviously it would be sweet if God just popped out of nowhere for chat, but is that really what these sources are trying to say? 2) And why does it cause this growth-oriented happiness? Or perhaps we should reinvent that second question: Isn’t it obvious that the experience of a date with the Divine would result in a happy growth-oriented experience?

So, the underlying theme here is this: In Judaism, we understand the choice of words to be very specific and particular. God’s not a joker and the Sages talk to the essence of the thing, so what does it mean to “hear” God as opposed to “see” God? Once we clarify this point, we can move on to study its consequential emotional, psychological, and spiritual effects.

A PARELLEL UNIVERSE

Kabbalah comes from the Hebrew word makbeel, which means parallel. One of the foundational secrets of Kabbalah is that everything in the physical world is merely a parallel of the spiritual reality. By studying the physical with the proper tools, knowledge, and guidance, we can get past our usual superficial understandings and delve deeper into ourselves, the world, and reality. Our senses are no exception. Our hearing and seeing are mere parallels; physical reflection of a deeper spiritual concept of what it means to truly hear and what it means to truly see.

PHYSICAL SIGHT

When you look at some thing, all you see is the outer layer of color. The first thing the eye has contact with is all you get with sight. Sight means, in essence, to see the cover, not the book. For example, when I look at my kitchen table, I see the external cover of the table; the surface of the table. I don’t see the atoms flying around. I don’t see the deeper inner essence of the table.

CONCEPTUAL SIGHT

The concept of sight means to see clearly, but only the surface.

We often judge people one way based on our first impression, but then we are exposed to something deeper about the person which causes us to have a complete paradigm shift. This is the concept of “hearing”. Hearing implies the ability to get beyond the surface and understand something for its inner depth. Speech comes from the inside. When someone speaks to us, he is exposing something of himself that is deeper than the outer layer; something beyond the surface. And it is only when we truly receive what he is saying on his terms that he senses that he has been truly understood and feels heard.

Recently, we hosted a couple from abroad for a Shabbat meal, and honestly I was wondering what the girl was doing the guy. She seemed like an attractive, with it, popular type, whereas he looked like a little bit of a goofball. Well, this couple and I hit it off pretty quick and I got to talking with him. Immediately, the way he spoke about relationships and other issues caught my attention and it became apparent to me exactly what she saw in him – depth – and in my opinion it’s to her credit that that was what she went for. Later on, I got a chance to talk with her as well and without me prompting her she said, “My friends don’t get what I’m doing with him, but people don’t get him – he can sit there quietly in a group and observe for five minutes and get everything that’s going on with everyone.”

How often do we judge a person or situation wrong because we’re only at the level of seeing, and not of hearing?

SEEING GOD VS HEARING GD

Just like we “see” and “hear” within the physical, so too we “see” and “hear” God.

In Kabbalah, it is said that God runs His world enclothed. What does this mean?

Again, Kabbalah is always understanding the world as a physical parallel to a grander conceptual reality. So, to understand the statement that God runs His world enclothed, we must understand the concept of clothes.

DRESSING UP

Clothes essentially accomplish two things. Firstly, clothes cover up what is truly there. It is a covering up of the naked truth because were the naked truth to be exposed it would result in a revelation of essence that is so great that it is not appropriate for the present situation. Additionally, with clothes we give off a certain impression. Clothes are our expression of identity and statement to the outside world. In the deeper sources the concept of clothing is always bound up with the concept kavod, meaning honor, glory, and dignity. The numerical value of the Hebrew word for clothed, levusha, is the same as the numerical value of kavod ha’eesha, meaning a woman’s honor. (The correlation between a woman’s honor and clothing is a lengthy and fundamental discussion for another time.)

DELUSIVE DATE

We use this twofold role of enclothing in life all the time.

Think about the last time you went out on a date. You puts on your best outfit, wore makeup, were extra careful about what you said and what you did not say – in essence you put on an act! And what was the purpose of this performance? So that he’ll like you and want to get to know you better - So for the purpose of getting the significant other to know who you are, you hide who you truly are on the date!?

This is the essence of enclothing. Enclothing means to conceal certain things for the purpose of preserving those things for the time when it would be more appropriate and receivable.

Now, as I write this I must admit I have difficulty relating to it. When I was dating I used to specifically put on a less than flattering shirt for the occasion and make sure to leave my car in the same mess it was always in [unless garbage was overflowing in the passenger seat – then I’d at least clean it out enough that she could fit in the car] because I didn’t want to give a wrong impression – I wanted the girl to know exactly what she was in for long term…Anyway, none of them married me.

The point here is that enclothing means to conceal certain things for the purpose of preserving those things for the time when it would be more appropriate and receivable. When we look at something, all we see is that outer appearance. And similarly when we see what’s going on in the world and what’s happening with the Jewish People, we only see the clothes – the outer appearance.

CONCEPTUAL HEARING

Again, hearing means to get beyond the surface and understand something for its inner depth. So, hearing God means to get beyond the outer appearance of the state of the world, and delve into what is happening from a deeper perspective; to understand the ultimate goal.

Now, as opposed to seeing, which is an instant; a first impression, hearing what a person has to say takes longer. To hear what a person has to say you have to sit through every syllable and use your brain to put them all together until the end when message becomes clear. It’s only at that point that you understand the intentions of the original syllables as it relates to the message as a whole. So, the concept of hearing is to truly receive the message in its essence. This means that it is only through the whole of the message that we can understand the true intent of each detail.

This leads us to a question: Once you have the whole message why study the details?

If it is the message you have been after and you have just grasped it, is there a point to the individual syllable on its own? Now that you have the deeper meaning and purpose, what could be the use of the seemingly trivial outer enclothment?

While the legitimacy of this question can lead to an interesting debate, when the message that is being communicated is coming from God, this question goes out the window. If the Infinite God has a story to tell, and He chooses a particular detail by which to get His message across, there is a reason why He is choosing that specific path to get His message across as opposed to all others. When it comes to the Infinite God, there is never anything random or trivial - everything is perfect and exact.

So, in the end we must conclude that by hearing the message we will come to see the details in their true light, and by seeing the specific details in their true light we can understand a new facet about the message we are hearing.

HIS-STORY

A book is a good comparison. When writing a book, the author will generally write the introduction last (sometimes he will not even have the title until the end!) Why? Because the introduction is supposed to be all-inclusive; it is supposed to express the totality of what is contained in the book. Therefore, if one were to first read the introduction, he would get a certain sense of what is in the book. But he will only comprehend how the small introduction is truly a product of the story being told in the book by reread the introduction after having read the whole book.

This article is a great example. I called it “Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover” – Most people probably assumed this was going to be an article about judging people favourably. Now, having read most of it, you can go back to title - the initial enclothing - and truly understand the author’s intentions and how the title encompasses the entire article.

The same principle applies to the Author of all authors, God. Each time period in the Jewish calendar is its own introduction to God’s constantly unravelling story of humanity’s journey towards God-consciousness. Each phase has its own focus; its own particular path to be traveled in order to reach that timeless universal destination of God-consciousness and awareness.

HOLY HIDE AND SEEK

The Tisha Ba’Av experience is an episode in which the ability to see God on the surface has diminished. God has “hidden His face” from us; enclothed Himself in a difficult cover.

The concept of face hiding is that it is by one’s face that one is identifiable. You’ll notice that when the police sketch someone on their Wanted List, it is the face they are sketching, not any other body part. This is because if you were to see someone from the neck down, unless that individual has an extraordinarily unique physical trait or you are especially close with him, you will not be able to decipher who that person is, whereas if you were to see him from the neck up, the identity would be clear and obvious.

The face is the part of us that captures our individuality. In a sense it is what gives us our personal identity. It is the face by which each of us is recognized.

Hiding implies that the initial appearance being given is that the object or individual that is hidden is not there at all. One is only inclined to search for that which is hidden once he has the knowledge that it is there just beyond the horizon.

When God is hidden from sight, in order to hear the full story, we must first shut our eyes to the initial appearance of godlessness and destruction. In a sense, we must assume a put-up job and conduct a deeper search into the true essence of what is really going on – the unfolding of the road towards knowing God. Once we have truly heard this ultimate purpose, we can return to that initial enclothment of destruction and ask, “If the end-goal is achieving God-awareness, what can I learn from the outer appearance God is portraying? What route is God expressing to me to take at this moment in my journey towards God-consciousness?”

STUDENT-TEACHER RELATIONSHIP

Chana, my wife, has a teacher who she very much admires. She likes to consult with her from time to time and talk things out with her in general. However, she is not the only one who has this feeling. This teacher is actually very popular and sought after, which makes her very busy and difficult to get to. And to try and grab a conversation with this teacher in her zone (i.e. after a class) can lead you into a brawl. So, instead of trying to meet the teacher in her set zone where there are many obstacles, my wife tries to catch her in the street, offer her rides, or take rides with her to wherever she is going.

THE TISHA BAAV EXPERIENCE

Similarly is the picture of the exiles and destructions of Jewish sites painted by the Tisha Ba’av experience. While, of course these are troubling times that we certainly don’t yearn for, there is an opportunity present in this time of homelessness for God. It is now that God can be found in the streets! Now it is easier than ever to grab Him for a conversation and speak to him as much as your heart desires!

So the process is three-fold. By first shutting our eyes to the initial perception of troubles, we free ourselves to meditate on the knowledge that the ultimate story being told is one of advancing God awareness in a world where all the nations point to our situation and ask, “Where is this God of yours?” With this in mind we can finally look back at the enclothment of Tisha Ba’Av’s exile and destruction to find the practical application of our initial perception – that now more than ever we can grab God for private conversation.

On Tisha Ba’Av, as in most cases in Judaism, there is a duality going on: We are to experience the sadness of Tisha Ba’Av, yet also realize the unique opportunity it brings us. As the saying goes, out the darkest darkness comes the brightest light. We are to experience the darkness with the whole of the Jewish people, yet as individuals bring out light from the experience.

EYE SURGERY

On a deeper level, this is a time for fixing the eyes; for fixing sight.

The verse in Tehillim (Psalms) states, “This was from God; It is a wonder in our eyes.”

Having learned the concepts of seeing and hearing, we can understand this verse on a more profound level – that these times are a wonder in our eyes means that they are difficult at the level of perception and that they call for a temporary closing of the conceptual eyes and opening of the conceptual ears.

Additionally, a verse in Eichah (Lamentations), read Tisha BaAv night, states, “My eye, my eye drips down water”. The Arizal, the foremost of the Kabbalists of the last 500 years, expounds that every month corresponds to a different part of the face. These months of Tamuz and Av correspond to the right eye and left eye respectively, and that these verses refer to the sadness and the pain of these times specifically.

But in redemption, Yeshaya (Isaiah) proclaims, “Lift up your eyes [and look] around”.

When a person is crying, everything is foggy. You can’t see anything but what’s right there in front of your face; you can’t see the peripheral. But in the times of redemption, these times of sadness will be turned into times of joy. In times of redemption, there will no longer be this discrepancy between what is seen and what is heard. In the times of redemption, not only will we know God due to our deeper understanding, but we will experience God even on the surface.


Rabbi Eliyahu Yaakov is a lecturer on Jewish Philosophy and Kabbalah who is noted for his plethora of parallels and explanatory precision, and the author of the new book "Shabbos Insights of the Maharal".

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Hizbullah Arms Depot After Explosion 15Jul09

Hizbullah Arms Depot After Explosion 15Jul09


Hizbullah arms depot in Southern Lebanon, which exploded a few minutes BEFORE the video was taken. It documents Hizbullah violation of UN Security Council Resolution 1701, which demands the removal of Hizbullah terrorists and their weapons from the South.

Tisha B'Av 5769

Claudio Ronco Tisha B'Av 5769

Gerusalemme ricorda
i giorni della sua miseria e del suo vagare,
tutti i suoi beni preziosi dal tempo antico;
ricorda quando il suo popolo cadeva
per mano del nemico
e nessuno le porgeva aiuto.
I suoi nemici la guardavano
e ridevano della sua rovina.
Gerusalemme ha peccato gravemente,
per questo è divenuta un panno immondo;
quanti la onoravano la disprezzano,
perché hanno visto la sua nudità;
anch'essa sospira
e si volge indietro.
La sua sozzura è nei lembi della sua veste,
non pensava alla sua fine;
essa è caduta in modo sorprendente
e ora nessuno la consola.
"Guarda, Signore, la mia miseria,
perché il nemico ne trionfa".

(Lamentazioni 7/9)

Claudio Ronco, “Elegia per Israel”, 2001; prima parte, “Lamento”; esecuzione del 18 settembre 2002, per orchestra d’archi ed elettronica (ogni strumento dell’orchestra è raddoppiato da un “simile” elettronico, amplificato a fianco di ogni singolo orchestrale)

Friday, July 17, 2009

Dead First

Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky


Dead First

Parshas Masei discusses the sojourns of Klal Yisrael through the desert. It focuses on the many stops that the Jewish nation made, hinting at the ensuing incidents that occurred with each stop.

But one verse seems to divert attention from the Jews' travels and chooses to focus on a scene occurring miles away. The Torah tells us that "the Jews journeyed from Ramses on the fifteenth day of the first month and went forth with a Yad Ramah to the eyes of all Egyptians" (Numbers 33:3). The Torah then inserts a seemingly irrelevant detail, one that seems to be insignificant if not anticlimactic in proportion to the great tragedy that befell the Egyptians and the miraculous Exodus of the Jews. It reverts to a scene that takes place back in Mitzrayim as the Jews were a few days into their escape from Egypt. "The Egyptians were burying their dead and in their gods Hashem meted justice" (ibid.v.4).

Isn't that a mere detail in history? Why even mention it? In fact if we were to mention anything, the Torah should write "and the Egyptians were mourning their first born-dead whom Hashem miraculously smote on the prior night."

It seems that the Torah placed this posuk in this place as a significant lesson a part of the lessons of the Exodus.

In the famous work, A Tzaddik in our Times, Simcha Raz relates an amazing story about Rabbi Aryeh Levin, the tzadik of Jerusalem: It was mid-May 1948, bombs were raining on central Jerusalem, no street was safe and no home a haven. Yet it was during a bomb attack that Samuel Weingarten, a bank cashier who volunteered for civil defense, spotted the holy sage Rabbi Aryeh Levin, maneuvering his way, dodging craters below and bombs from above, in a desperate effort to get somewhere. His steps were careful and calculated and he strode with confidence with a clear destination in mind.

"Rabbi!" he shouted above the din. "Where are you going? A Jew must guard his soul! They are shooting at us! Get inside a shelter!"

Rabbi Levin was not fazed. "I am on my way to do the greatest mitzvah. There are forty deceased souls in the Bikur Cholim Hospital, with no one to guard them. The only watchmen are the human jackals who cut their finger to remove their jewelry. I am rounding up volunteers to guard them. The bombs will have to find different addresses."

In addition to exacting every detail of how a Jew should live their life, the Torah is also a guidebook to an entire world on what is ethically correct. The foundations set in the Torah of myriad principles found the core of ethical behavior even to the basest of people.

Murder, incest, and other abominable acts are deplored in the Torah. Some are denoted with the words toaivah, abominable, others with depictions of Heavenly retribution, whether it be the Flood or the destruction of S'dom. Those stories are lessons for civilization. They are standards required for every inhabitant of planet Earth. Those aspects of the Torah serve as a moral compass. They come together with the ethos of kindness and compassion that can be surely garnered by those who are students of the Torah.

So if we take a step back in time and understand what was going on in the minds of the Egyptians, and what the Torah deems important to mention, perhaps we can garner another moral lesson that may better inspire our generation of proper values.

Imagine! For 210 years the Jews were captive in Egypt. Despite miraculous plagues, never heard of or seen before in the history of civilization, the Egyptians held on. They were not letting go!! Not a threat of disaster, nor its execution cracked their resolve nor diminished the Egyptians' desire to maintain their hold on the Jews. Not blood, boils, locust or any other plague, shook their resolve. Even when the Jews finally left, the Egyptians chased after them. But not immediately. The Torah tells us that something else was more important. Something was worth giving the Jews an enormous head-start. Something was worth losing the very nation that their first-born gave their lives to keep all for one staid principle. The honor and burial of the dead.

Perhaps the Torah talks to civilization. It tells the world what was important, even to a nation that had no qualms about the indenture of another people. No matter how long it took., no matter the financial ramifications, no matter the loss of power and prestige in giving the Jews a long head-start. It did not matter. Honor the smitten. Bury the dead.

And so the Torah tells us that despite the political ramifications that occurred with the Exodus, something else was on Egypt's mind. Maybe the actions of that primitive nation should give the world a perspective about what really matters. If an ancient nation was willing to give up its century-old national pride, the loss of the largest single work-force in history for the honor of the dead, shouldn't every nation give thought about their priorities as well? Shouldn't they keep the honor of those buried instead of a shopping mall, a new roadway, or even the prestigious honor that a place in a museum bestows? We may not learn many great moral lessons from the Egyptians, but this one we all can.

Even if in the war of wits you come in dead last, in the war of morality make sure it's dead first.


Postagem: Andre_Moshe Prera, Presidente Or Ahayim

Monday, July 06, 2009

A Rabbi at the Piano

Alumni News

Spotlight

A Rabbi at the Piano

Moshe Cotel (Photo by Russell Fish)

Rabbi Moshe Cotel (B.M. ’64, M.S. ’65, composition) thought he had his career all mapped out—not just once, but twice. Things still aren’t unfolding as planned, but at 65, he isn’t worried. “It says in the Torah that many are the thoughts in the heart of man, but God’s plan will be fulfilled,” he observes.

The Baltimore native (who was known as Morris at Juilliard) was immersed in both Judaism and music early on, attending an Orthodox Jewish day school and studying music at Peabody Prep. By 13, he had composed a four-movement symphony. After a couple of years at the conservatory as a double major in composition and piano, Cotel transferred to Juilliard to concentrate on composing. His Symphonic Pentad, which received its first reading by the Juilliard Orchestra, netted him the prestigious Rome Prize at 23. Cotel spent two years in Italy and four in Israel before returning to the U.S. to teach composition at the Peabody Institute, where he eventually headed the department.

Though classical music had become his “religion,” he said, Jewish themes informed many of his works. What he calls a “political protest piece” based on the writings of poets and intellectuals murdered in the Stalinist pogrom of 1952 was premiered in New York with actor Richard Dreyfuss as narrator and performed around the country in the early ’70s. Cotel’s two-act opera Dreyfus, about the famous anti-Semitic incident in France in the 1890s, was premiered at the Brooklyn Academy of Music in 1985. A choral work commemorates the Holocaust; the 1996 Trope for Orchestra is based on Torah cantillation.

An extraordinary event tipped the balance for Cotel. Asked to conduct Dreyfus in Vienna, he sought to expand his conversational German through lessons with an elderly German widow in his neighborhood, with whom he discussed his opera. Many months later, on his way up the street to synagogue, a voice from behind greeted him in Hebrew … and he turned with astonishment to face his old German teacher, who told him she was studying with a rabbi. “And I said, ‘What’s going on here?'” recalls Cotel. “And she said, ‘I didn’t tell you when you took those lessons from me, but I was born Jewish … and I’m coming back now, and it’s all because of you.’ My life changed right then and there; it was like a voice came down into my head: ‘Become a rabbi.’ Without knowing it, I had changed this woman’s life … and she had no idea that she had just changed mine.”

After 28 years of teaching at Peabody, Cotel took early retirement in 2000 to devote himself to rabbinic studies (which he had been juggling part-time since 1996) at the Academy for Jewish Religion. Ordained in 2003, Cotel has been spiritual leader of a Conservative congregation, Temple Beth El, in Manhattan Beach, Brooklyn, for five years.

Cotel thought he was trading his composing pencil for a Torah pointer, but it hasn’t turned out that way. His rabbinic thesis blended Jewish wisdom and classical music in a series of monologues examining topics ranging from kavanah (spiritual attentiveness) to the pianistic and religious roles of the left hand, paired with performances of piano works by Mozart, Bach, Scriabin, Bloch, Gershwin, and others. Cotel titled the presentation “Chronicles: A Jewish Life at the Classical Piano”—and word of mouth brought requests from around the country, as far afield as Hawaii. “At first I played in synagogues, as you would expect,” says Cotel, “and then churches started requesting this; increasingly, performances are in interfaith settings. A number of rabbis have told me this is very helpful in terms of outreach.” A second program, “Chronicles II,” features Cotel’s own music, ending with Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue (after a discussion of the mysterious source of the dye for the blue threads in the traditional prayer shawl). And he is at work on a third program, “A Rabbi Looks at Chopin,” paying tribute to Mieczyslaw Munz, the great Polish-Jewish pianist who was Cotel’s teacher at Peabody. (Munz later taught at Juilliard.) With some 25 performances a year—all he can manage while serving as a pulpit rabbi—and his wife handling his concerts and travel arrangements, Cotel is booked solid for the next two years … and as the original "Chronicles" program reaches its 100th performance, he may eventually find himself at another career crossroads.

While still a rabbinical student, Cotel traveled to Uganda in 2002 as part of a rabbinic delegation to formally convert to Judaism a community of some 600 black Jews practicing in isolation—an experience that awakened him to the rising wave of Jewish interest in far-flung places. Now, he’s able to see his mission on the piano bench as part of that larger tide. “I’ve learned by now that, at all the critical junctures of my life, I wind up moving in a direction that I didn’t expect. So I’ve given up trying to predict what will happen next. Maybe the whole world is my pulpit now. I’m just thrilled that I have a chance to put the two halves of my life together, because that wasn’t in my plan.”

— Jane Rubinsky

Moshe Cotel - Chronicles: A Jewish Life at the Classical Piano (2002)

by Stewart I. Cherlin

Rabbi Moshe Cotel

Moshe Cotel has a distinguished life in classical music. At age thirteen when most Jewish children are preoccupied by their Bar or Bat Mitzvah, Morris Moshe Cotel composed a symphony for orchestra. At age 23, he won the prestigious American Rome Prize in Music Composition. He attended the Peabody Conservatory and also holds degrees from the Juilliard School of Music studying under Vincent Persichetti and Roger Sessions. He served as chair of the Composition Department of the Peabody Conservatory of Music of Johns Hopkins University.

At the height of his music career, during the successful European production of his opera Dreyfus, Cotel experienced the calling to become a rabbi. Cotel muses, "as much as I tried I could not shake this inconvenient idea out of my head." He took early retirement from Peabody Conservatory to pursue rabbinical studies at the Academy for Jewish Religion in New York.

Ordained in May 2003, Cotel transformed himself from composer to rabbi. In the process he has not set aside his musical life. He embraces it. It compliments his central rabbinic obligation, that of being a teacher. A rabbi is foremost a teacher. Cotel draws on his life in music to teach Jewish lessons. This is exemplified in his dissertation project, Chronicles: A Jewish Life at the Classical Piano (2002).

Chronicles is a work that was conceived, written and performed by Moshe Cotel the artist and the rabbinic student. The work includes nine short solo piano works by various composers coupled with commentary or D'var Torah (lessons) related to the piece. Cotel is both the narrator and soloist during performance. The demand for live performances of the work has led to recitals at synagogues and Jewish centers throughout the United States. Chronicles is also released on CD.

Chronicles CD cover

Chronicles is unlike any other performance work, sermon or lecture. Moshe Cotel draws you into his lessons as a masterful storyteller and artist. His presentation is humorous and uplifting. The companion piece to each lesson serves as a reflective pond that embellishes the meaning of the lesson. The music content mirrors each lesson. The accompanying piece is not an afterthought but is equal and integral to the lesson.

Subsequent to recounting the merits of Noah's life Cotel plays a pristine piano piece by a very young W.A. Mozart. Torah teaches that Noah was faultless in his generation. The rabbis differ as to the meaning of the passage. Mozart, in Cotel's estimation was "not just faultless in his own generation, he was faultless for all generations." The Allegro in Bb, KV3 is a faultless gem of simplicity, balance and innate charm. Will our generation merit another Mozart or Noah?

Another selection highlights the confluence of two men named Bach. A Prelude and Fugue from the Well-Tempered Clavier by J.S. Bach is paired the rabbinic commentator Rabbi Joel Sirkes, 1561–1640, one of the greatest talmudic scholars of Poland, known by the acronym BaCH (abbreviation for Bayit CHadash, his talmudic commentary). As Cotel quips, he was "the Jewish Bach." Here the student at the piano bench and his counterpart at the tisch (table) in theBeis Midrash (house of study) converge. The great Lutheran composer and the Talmudic commentator share common ground.

Cotel relates that playing Bach is his "daily vitamin B". Likewise, it is a Jewish custom to read adaf (page) of Talmud each day. This custom unites Jews throughout the world as they study the same text; are literally on the same page. Similarly, playing Bach preludes and fugues sharpen an artist's musical sensibility as well as one's technical proficiency. Bach in the hands of Moshe Cotel reveals his discipline and sensibility to the literature.

In the section titled Arnold Schoenberg, Crossing Broadway at 122nd Street Cotel asks us to consider that "the meeting of rabbi and artist is not dissimilar from the confrontation of priest and prophet." Moses und Aron, Arnold Schoenberg's uncompleted masterwork expresses this central conflict. Moses the prophet is unyielding in his spiritual actions. Aaron the priest out of love of his people assists with the sin of molding the golden calf. Moses speaks to God, Aaron to the people. Cotel asserts, "Like Moses, Schoenberg followed his internal vision without compromise."

There is no room for compromise in Schoenberg's "wilderness of atonality". We hear this expressed in a selection from Three Piano Pieces, Opus 11 composed in 1909. Schoenberg as Moses explored an uncharted wilderness, one that would transform everything in its wake. The wilderness is critical in each man's journeys.

Chronicles also features the Prelude for Left Hand, Op. 9, No. 1 by the composer and mystic Alexander Scriabin. The accompanying lesson is on the commandment to bind tefillin shel yad (the hand phylactery) upon the left hand. Often in piano music the left hand provides the foundation for a piece. It is the strength of the music. Scriabin composed several pieces for left hand alone due to an injury to his right hand. The works rely on a technique that incorporates melody and accompaniment in one hand. Torah tells us to "bind these words on your hand" (Deut 6:8). This is understood to mean upon your left hand, upon your left hand alone. Cotel masterfully plays the challenging work illustrating the strength in the left hand alone.

Chronicles includes several additional works with matching commentary. Noteworthy is a prize winning composition, Piece for Piano, 4-Paws by Ketzel the Cotel family cat. On music paper, Moshe transcribed Ketzel's feline saunter down the piano keyboard one morning. The piece received Special Mention in the 1997 Paris New Music Review's "Sixty Seconds for Piano," an international competition for original piano miniatures. This reflects the spirit of the Jewish concept of kavannah, which translates as deep concentration or intention. Through kavannah one can experience moments of inspiration. During worship kavannah raises us to a higher state; it brings us closer to God. Chronicles achieves the spirit of kavannah.

Chronicles is a work that you will want to add to your music collection as well as your general library. Chronicles inspire; the performance is exquisite. It is a work that reveals deeper and deeper meaning upon each listening.

Moshe Cotel has started work on a follow up volume and hints that it will be appropriately named Chronicles II. This will be a welcome addition to Rabbi Cotel's oeuvre.

For further information on Chronicles and Rabbi Moshe Cotel, e-mail Rabbi Moshe Cotel

Other music compositions by Moshe Morris Cotel featuring Jewish themes include: Dreyfus, Opera in Two Acts (1980–83), The Fire and the Mountains for Chorus, Children's Chorus, Soloists and Percussion (1977), August 12, 1952: The Night of the Murdered Poets for Narrator and Chamber Ensemble (1978), as well as many other works.

Written by Stewart I. Cherlin, 2 Nov '04

IN MEMORIAM Rabino MOSHE COTEL


Rabbi Moshe Cotel

Moshe Cotel




(We are re-publishing this article from the
Summer 2003 Kulanu newsletter in memory
of Rabbi Moshe Cotel)
We Live in
Miraculous Times
By Rabbi Moshe Cotel
(Excerpted from an ordination speech the writer, a
Kulanu board member, gave at his graduation
from the Academy for Jewish Religion in May
2003)
We live in miraculous times. Last year I was
in northeastern rural Uganda serving on a Bet Din,
a rabbinical court, which officially welcomed the
native Abayudaya Ugandans into the worldwide
community of the people Israel.
When I asked one old man at that time, an
ancient man who had lived through the persecutions
of dictator Idi Amin - a tyrant who had
banned Judaism throughout the country - why he
would want to be part of a people universally despised
and persecuted throughout history, he replied
in a quiet but firm voice and with clear blazing
eyes: Because I fear Adonai.
Judaism is coming alive throughout the developing
world. I know that this is true because I
have seen it with my own eyes; I have heard it with
my own ears. I believe that in a hundred years a
typical Jewish face will be the face of Africa; in a
hundred years a typical Jewish face will be the face
of Asia.
We live in miraculous times and I wish to be
part of this miracle. But the miracle has another
side to it—and while there are signs that Judaism is
awakening in places throughout the world where
we never thought a native Jewish community could
exist—here in America, in the highly developed
technological world, there are disturbing countercurrents.
A whole new generation has come into being,
not across the ocean, but right here in our midst—
Generation X, divorced from communal Jewish
life and all but written off by our own vaunted
Jewish establishment. This is the other side of our
miraculous time. American Jews have never been
more powerful, more secure, more integrated into
the whole of society—and yet our young people
are opting out in droves.
We must find a way to make Judaism relevant
to our own alienated young here in the U.S. And,
paradoxically, we must also find a way to make
Judaism inclusive for countless seekers around the
world for whom our theology of liberation, based
upon the Exodus from Egypt, is an inspiration.
I intend to devote the rest of my life to wrestling
with this paradox—inreach at home, outreach
abroad. Our great religion has been reinvented and
reinvented again by each succeeding generation of
Jews. And now, we have to gather our strength to
reinvent Judaism yet once more.

Mor Karbasi



Israeli singer Mor Karbasi appeared in the Sephardic Song Festival
on September 28 at Spiegelworld Tent, Pier 17, NYC. A descendant
of Moroccan and Persian Jews, she sang in Spanish, Hebrew,
Ladino and English. She has been described as “one of the great
young divas of the global music scene.”


Kuando el Rey Nimrod al campo salía
mirava en el cielo y en la estrería
vido luz santa en la judería
que havía de nazer Abraham Avinu.
Abraham Avinu, Padre kerido,
Padre bendicho, luz de Yisrael. (2x)
Luego a las kumadres se encomendaba
que toda muyer que preñada quedara
la que pariera villu al punto lo matara
que havía de nazer Abraham Avinu.
Abraham Avinu, Padre kerido,
Padre bendicho, luz de Yisrael. (2x)

La mujer de Terah kedó preñada,
e de día en día él le preguntava
¿De ké tenéish la cara demudada?
eyia ya sabía el bien ké tenía.
Abraham Avinu, Padre kerido,
Padre bendicho, luz de Yisrael. (2x)


En fin de nueve meses parir quería,
iva caminando por campos y viñas,
topó una meara y lo pariría
en aquesta hora aquello que amaba
Abraham Avinu, Padre kerido,
Padre bendicho, luz de Yisrael. (2x)
Saludemos al compadre y tambien al moel
Que por su seut nos venga Elboel
Y vinga todo Yisrael
Cierto lo haremos al verdadero
Abraham Avinu, Padre kerido,
Padre bendicho, luz de Yisrael. (2x)

Chiribiribim Yiddish Folk Song

Ladino Song - Abraham Avinu

Al Kol Ele


Al Kol Ele - Naomi Shemer

Friday, July 03, 2009

Parshas Chukas-Balak

Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky


With Divine intervention ensuring that Balak the King of Moav would be governed by Murphy’s Law, everything that could go wrong for him went wrong.
Balak, the King of Moav saw that the Jewish nation was camped near his land and he became frightened. He employed the greatest sorcerer of the generation, Bilaam, to curse the Children of Israel, but alas, Hashem ensured that all potential curses were turned into blessings. In one of the early attempts to curse the Jews, Bilaam erected seven altars with sacrifices. He set out to accomplish his mission but he failed. Instead of cursing the Jews, Bilaam blessed them and longed for their eternal fortune.
“He declaimed his parable and said ­ ‘From Aram, Balak, king of Moab, led me, from the mountains of the east, 'Come curse Jacob for me, come bring anger upon Israel.' How can I curse? ­ G-d has not cursed. How can I anger? G-d is not angry. For from its origins, I see it rock-like, and from hills do I see it. Behold! It is a nation that will dwell in solitude and not be reckoned among the nations. Who has counted the dust of Jacob or numbered a quarter of Israel? May my soul die the death of the upright, and may my end be like his!’" (Numbers 23:6-10)
Though I am no expert in sorcerer’s spells or Bilaamic blessings, the juxtaposition is difficult to comprehend. Why did Bilaam suddenly ask to die the death of the upright after extolling the uniqueness of his adversaries, the Israelites? If he gave them blessings, why didn’t he ask to live in the bounty of their goodness?
Last year my son was in fourth grade and had to do a report on President Abraham Lincoln. He did a fine job recounting his log-cabin childhood, his early career as an attorney, and his tumultuous presidency. He detailed the difficult period of the Civil War and Lincoln’s bold stance in signing the Emancipation Proclamation.
I looked over his report and frankly, I was quite impressed — until I reached the last sentence. It read: “Abraham Lincoln died on Friday morning, April 15, 1865, and was buried in Oak Ridge Cemetery, outside Springfield, Illinois.”
“Zvi,” I exclaimed, “Abraham Lincoln died on Friday morning?” I rhetorically reiterated, stressing the passivity of the underreported, yet most traumatic event. “Died?” I repeated. “He was shot to death! In fact, Lincoln was assassinated! In fact,” I added, “he was the first President to be assassinated! How can you ignore that significant part of his life in your report?”
Zvi looked at me quizzically. “My report was on ‘the Life of Abraham Lincoln. Who cares how he died? He died!” Bilaam understood that death, too, is an integral part of life. Our attitude toward death is part of our larger attitude toward life. And the way we leave this world is part of a greater outlook of how we aspire to live our lives.
A neighbor of mine was a former Yeshiva boy back in the early 1920’s in one of America’s first yeshivas. Time and circumstances eroded both his practice and belief. He had joined the army and rose to the rank of a General. He and his wife often ate in our sukkah and we became quite friendly. When he was diagnosed with a fatal illness, he asked me to perform his funeral service in the right time. I agreed only if he would be buried in accordance with the halacha. And though in his life he disregarded the daily practices of an observant Jew, in death, he forewent burial in his his army uniform and instead chose traditional tachrichim (shrouds) and a talis.
When one sees the ultimate spiritual eternity of the Jew, he realizes that death is just a portal to a greater world, Olam HaBah. Bilaam declared that we are a nation that dwells in solitude, and that our ways in life are not compatible with those nations who outnumber us. It is after he comprehended our eternity that he beseeched the Almighty with the haunting bequest, “May my soul die the death of the upright, and may my end be like his!" The Chofetz Chaim, however, added a very cogent caveat: In asking for the death of the righteous, Bilaam understood that there is more to the legacy of life than life itself. And so, Bilaam wanted to live his perverted life as a hedonistic heretic, yet he wanted to die the death of the righteous. “Truth be told,” says the Chofetz Chaim, “our mission is not only to die the death of the upright, but to live the life of the upright as well.” Because if you want to sleep the sleep, you first have to walk the walk

Good Shabbos

Parshas Chukas Balak

Rabbi Frand on Parshas Chukas-Balak

These divrei Torah were adapted from the hashkafa portion of Rabbi Yissocher Frand's Commuter Chavrusah Tapes on the weekly portion: Tape #687, Water, Coffee and Tea.


Good Shabbos!



Never Underestimate the Power of a Cow


I would like to share the comments of a Pesikta Rabbasi on the pasuk [verse]: "This is the statute of the Torah" [Bamidbar 19:2]: A Jew once had a cow which he used for plowing. The Jew fell on hard times and had to raise cash so he sold his cow to a Gentile. The non-Jew plowed with the cow for six days from Sunday through Friday. However, when the non-Jew took out the cow on Saturday to plow, the cow plopped down and refused to budge. The non-Jew whipped the cow but it still refused to move. He took the cow back to the Jew and insisted that the Jew take his cow back. "You sold me a 'lemon' of a cow. It sits down in the middle of the field on Saturday and refuses to budge."

The Jew understood that the cow was not working on Saturday because it was used to not working on Shabbos. He told the Gentile, "Come with me, I will get the cow going for you." The Jew then approached the cow and whispered into its ear: "Cow, my dear cow, you know that when you were my cow I worked you for six days and on the seventh day you rested. Now, because of my sins I became poor and I had to sell you and you are the property of a non-Jew. Now you are allowed to work on Shabbos. Please, therefore, get up and plow." Immediately the cow got up and started to work.

The amazed Gentile asked the Jew, "What did you tell the cow? Tell me the secret. Was it magic? I will not leave you until you tell me what you whispered into its ear. I whipped it and did everything I could but I could not get it to move. Yet, you whispered something to it and it started plowing. You must tell me the magic words you used!"

The Jew told the Gentile – I used neither magic nor enchantment. I merely told the cow that until now he was my cow and he did not need to work on Shabbos, but now he was the cow of a Gentile and had to work on Shabbos. The Medrash says that the Gentile immediately became frightened. He said "If a cow that cannot speak and has no intelligence und erstood that he was not supposed to work on Shabbos, I who was created in His image and who was given intelligence – should I not recognize my Creator and do His Will? The Gentile immediately became a righteous convert and merited to study Torah. He was called Yochanan ben Torasa (which sounds like 'Ben Torah' – son of Torah, but also implies he was the son of a cow as tora is the Aramaic word for cow) and to this day halacha is quoted in his name.

The Medrash concludes, "If it strikes one as odd that through a cow a person was drawn near to the wings of the Divine Presence, it is really not so strange. For it is through a cow that all Israel becomes pure as we read: "This is the statute of the Torah" (introducing the law of the Red Heifer which is used in the purification ritual).

We learn from this Medrash that anything – sometimes even a cow – can make an impression on a person that turns him around and allows him to "see the light". The Medrash is emphasizi ng that even a cow can have an influence. Certainly, even the smallest actions or human beings can do something for a person to help turn their life around and bring them to the light of Torah.

If we read stories of Baalei Teshuva and hear what made them become religious, it is rarely through deep philosophical discussions. Typically, it is from seeing how religious people live and how they interact with other people in a positive fashion. This is what has an impact on people.

It has been documented that lives have been changed by inviting non religious people to a religious Shabbos table. Just seeing religious teenagers who are respectful and decent can be an eye opener! Most 14 year olds today are walking around with pierced body parts and are surly, in their own world, and not interested in talking with any adult. When parents of such children see our Bais Yaakov daughters dressed like decent young women or our yeshiva sons looking like clean cut and intelli gent individuals, they recognize that we just might be onto something that they are missing. Sometimes, merely wearing a dress or wearing a suit can draw someone near. This is one of the lessons we should take away from this Medrash.


A Pasuk From Chukas Is Linked With A Pasuk From Ashrei


The Medrash Shochar Tov makes an interesting observation. The Torah describes the message Moshe sent to the King of Edom describing a brief history of the Jewish people. Among other things Moshe said "We cried out to Hashem and He heard our voices and he took us out from Egypt..." [Bamidbar 20:16]. The Medrash links this pasuk with a line from a prayer we say thrice daily [Tehilim 145:18] and notes that Moshe informed the King of Edom that "Hashem is close to all who call out to him, to all who call out to Him in sincerity."

The Vilna Gaon comments that every pasuk in Ashrei [Chapter 145 in Tehillim] consists of two phrases connected with the letter 'vov' (the conjunction 'and'). This indicates that every pasuk speaks of two different levels. There is one exception to this rule – pasuk 16 (quoted above). This indicates that in this pasuk only one level is mentioned. G-d is indeed close to those who call out to him, BUT ONLY when they call out to Him in si ncerity. There is a single dimension to this Attribute, and it is a tough standard to live up to.


An Interesting Tidbit

Finally, the Sefer Medrash Halacha cites an interesting bit of information. We are told in the parsha that "the people saw that Aharon died" [Bamidbar 20:29]. How did they know that he died? Rashi says that it was because the Clouds of Glory disappeared. The Sefer Medrash Halacha points out that the anniversary of the death of Aharon is Rosh Chodesh Av. The day of the week when Rosh Chodesh Av falls is always on the same day of the week as Aharon is the Ushpizin guest in our Succah (the following Succos). And one of the explanations for why we eat in a Succah on Succos is in commemoration of the Clouds of Glory.



This week's write-up is adapted from the hashkafa portion of Rabbi Yissocher Frand's Commuter Chavrusah Torah Tapes on the weekly Torah portion. The complete list of halachic portions for this parsha from the Commuter Chavrusah Series are:

Tape # 018 - Rending Garments on Seeing Yerushalayim
Tape # 063 - Intermarriage
Tape # 107 - Rabbonim and Roshei Yeshiva -- Do Sons Inherit?
Tape # 152 - Halachic Considerations of Transplanted Organs
Tape # 199 - Stam Yeinam: Non Kosher Wines
Tape # 245 - Skin Grafts
Tape # 335 - Postponing a Funeral
Tape # 379 - The Jewish "Shabbos Goy"
Tape # 423 - Tefilah of a Tzadik for a Choleh
Tape # 467 - Detached Limbs and Tumah
Tape # 511 - Autopsies and Insurance
Tape # 555 – Women Fasting on 17th of Tamuz, Tisha B'Av and Yom Kippur
Tape # 599 - Blended Whiskey
Tape # 643 - Choshed Bekesherim and Daan L'kaf Z'chus
Tape # 687 - Water, Coffee and Tea
Tape # 731 - Shkia - 7:02: Mincha 7:00 A Problem?
Tape # 775 - Wine At a Shul Kiddush
Tape # 819 – Mayim Gelyuim – Uncovered Water – Is There a Problem?
Tape # 863 – Shabbos in the Good 'Ol Summertime
Tape # 907 – Bracha Acharono on Coffee and Ice Cream
Tape # 908 – K'rias HaTorah and Tircha D'Tziburah
Tape # 951 – The Body Works ExhibitTape # 952 – Beer: Is This Bud For Yo