Imagine what it would be like today if we had prophecy.  Maybe it would be good, but it would also be a bit frightening, don’t you think?  I mean, really.  Imagine some guy going into a trance and coming out of it and telling you something somewhat cryptic that you don’t entirely understand.  “City of New Orleans, repent from your ways or Katrina will come destroy you!”  You’re left wondering who on earth Katrina is and instead of cancelling Mardi Gras, there’s a nationwide search for every Katrina out there to make sure none of them blow up the city. And then along comes a hurricane.

I figure that’s kind of what it must have been like back in the days when prophets were common.  There were a lot of false prophets and you weren’t quite sure who to believe.  Is this guy real, or is he faking it?  And then the messages: Doom! Destruction! Repent now! But half the time the people were either not willing or able to see their shortcomings and fix them.

We’re not much different today.  The laws given down in the Torah apply as much today as they did 2,500 years ago when prophets still roamed the earth.  And I don’t think any of their messages were all that different from the messages we receive in our daily Torah portions.  G-d gives us the right way to live, we don’t do what He says, and He promises punishments will come upon the earth because of us.  Then it happens and we moan and cry.  Why is there a famine this year? Why is there a drought? Why is there an earthquake? Why did the volcano erupt? But we had the answers long ago.

You know, it doesn’t have to be this way.  There is a simple solution: repent! Begin to truly follow the Torah! (Or in the case of non-Jews, the 7 Noachide laws.)  And you can start today!

Because Yom Kippur falls on Shabbos this year, instead of reading a weekly Torah portion, we will instead read the book of Jonah.  Jonah’s one of those prophets I was just describing… and I think we could all identify with him a bit.  I mean, imagine the voice of G-d coming to you and telling you to go to Tehran and make an announcement there that the whole city is going to be destroyed.  Would you do it? I doubt it! Firstly, because you’d think you were going crazy. Secondly, because you know Ahmadinejad himself would probably come out and throttle you, if the crowds didn’t get to you first.  That’s kind of the situation Jonah was in.

But I’m less concerned with poor Jonah and his problems than I am about what actually happened in the end.  It’s perplexing – G-d says Nineveh would be overthrown and then it wasn’t.  Didn’t G-d know what was going to happen? Did He change his mind or something?  How can Jonah ever expect to be believed as a prophet back home when what he prophesied didn’t even come to pass? Now, that’s an even bigger question.

I heard a vort by Rabbi Moshe Hauer that answers these questions exactly, and with such an astounding clarity and simplicity that not only does it solve the problem with Jonah, but it also gives us guidance in our own lives.  He said that the city of Nineveh was overthrown.  How was it overthrown if the book of Jonah clearly describes how it was saved? Nineveh was not overthrown physically – it was, however, overthrown spiritually… and it was born anew again.

You see, in order to do true teshuva (repentance), the people of Nineveh (who were deeply mired in spiritual muck) had to completely reinvent themselves.  They had to give up everything they were and become completely new people.  The city had to become a completely new city.  The society had to become a completely new society.  There was no other way for them to be saved.  So instead of being overthrown physically, they started a spiritual revolution.  In the blink of an eye they made the decision to change themselves.

This is what we, too, must do on Yom Kippur.  It is not enough to simply stand in shul and bang our chests with our fists.  It is not enough just to say the words of the prayers.  It is not enough to commit to making one small change.  If we really want to be written in the Book of Life, we must take drastic measures!  We must start our own spiritual revolution.  We each have the power to radically transform our lives in one moment – and that moment can be now.  We can choose as of right now not to use our cells phones ever again on Shabbos or Yom Tov.  We can choose in an instant to only eat in kosher restaurants.  We can choose in an instant to change our wardrobe and begin dressing and acting more modestly.  We can start our own revolution.  We can change our lives, and we can change them now.

Don’t you know you’re talking about a revolution
It sounds like a whisper
And finally the tables are starting to turn
Talking about a revolution
(Tracy Chapman)

We wish you all a meaningful and reflective Yom Kippur.

Read the PDF here: L’chaim New Caledonia

We met in Lima, Peru.  It’s the kind of meeting that could not have happened without G-d’s direct involvement.  There’s just no other way to explain it!

I was studying in Buenos Aires, Argentina and had two weeks of vacation between my summer internship and the start of school, so I decided to spend one in the Amazon rainforest in Ecuador and one in Peru, visiting Machu Picchu.  I happened to know the Chabad Lima shaliach’s daughter and so decided to stop there for Shabbos in between the two other legs of my trip.  If it hadn’t been for that friendly connection, I might never have shown up there.

Meanwhile, Rabbi Ben was one year into his initial four-year round-the-world travel plan. He stopped in Lima, planning to spend just a couple of days.  While he was there, though, he found the book Garden of Emunah by Rabbi Sholom Arush.  He decided to sit down and learn it, which took him a full three weeks.  At the end of that three weeks, I walked in.

Rabbi Ben was sitting at a computer and I thought he was an employee, so I began to speak to him in Spanish.

“I speak English,” he said dryly.  “And your accent is terrible!”

Rabbi Ben and I exploring Miraflores the first weekend we met, in Lima, Peru

I was insulted because I thought my accent was perfect, but when he announced that he wanted to split the cab fare and accompany me into the city, I accepted.  I am Jewish, after all!  During the whole cab ride, he made jokes about my degree in philosophy and I decided I had to find a way to get rid of him.  But although I kept disappearing into museums he didn’t want to enter, he patiently waited for me outside every one of them.  We also did other “romantic” things like to visit the Museum of the Inquisition.  In spite of all that, we actually ended up having a really great time together.

We didn’t see much of each other on Shabbat, but afterwards, we went to the open-air market at Miraflores, where we joked with local children.  When it was time for me to go back to my hotel, he walked me back and then had me add my contact information to his “address book,” which contained the contact information of every other person he’d met in his travels (I’m guessing it contained about 250,000 names).  I figured I’d never hear from him again, especially since he had a flight to Europe booked for later that week.

The second time we met, again in Lima, Peru, Rabbi Ben took me to see the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life, and took me to the romantic Parque del Amor.

To my surprise, Rabbi Ben did email me, just a few days later, to tell me he canceled his flight and was still in Lima!  A friend of his had gotten engaged and Rabbi Ben was staying in the Americas for a while so he could attend the wedding.  Plus, the Chabad of Lima had offered him a chazzan position for the high holidays that he couldn’t refuse.  I happened to have the first flight into Lima that Thursday, and the last flight out, giving me an entire day free there. As a result, we were able to spend my last day in Peru walking together in Lima and getting to know each other.  Unfortunately, Rabbi Ben was still insistent on continuing with his round-the-world travel plan and I was not interested in waiting for him.  We parted ways and I thought I would never see him again.

For the next two-and-a-half years, we kept in touch sporadically via phone and email.  In December of 2009, Rabbi Ben was finally in the same time zone as me, so we were able to talk on the phone more.  It took me two months, but I finally managed to convince him to visit me in Miami, Florida, where his grandparents also happened to be at the time.  He found the perfect flight: one that got him into Miami in the morning, so he could have lunch with his grandparents, but flew out in the evening, just after having dinner with me.  Then he’d fulfill his longstanding promise to visit me, but instead of staying too long, he’d end up on the beaches on Puerto Rico.

But G-d had different plans.

Rabbi Ben had accumulated quite a few air miles over the years, so he always checked his statements meticulously.  However, this time, he had misread the date of their expiration.  He had mixed up the day and the month, reading it European style instead of American style, and as a result, he found his air miles expired.  He called the company to try to fix it and they told him the only way to do so was to take a flight of a certain distance within the next couple of weeks.  A flight to Miami was just what he needed.

Only divine providence can explain how, 3 years after first meeting in Lima, Peru, Rabbi Ben and I finally got engaged! Our l'chaim took place in Miami Beach, Florida, followed by our wedding in Jerusalem, Israel.

So he had to forego his planned “perfect” flight to Puerto Rico in favor of one that went just to Miami, but was on the right airline.  Late on a Tuesday night, as I was driving home from work, Rabbi Ben called me.  “I’m flying in tomorrow afternoon – can you pick me up at the airport?”

This was a huge surprise to me, since I hadn’t seriously expected him to come visit.  But I was happy to see him again, so I rolled with the punches.  He only planned to spend a couple of days visiting his grandparents before continuing on to Puerto Rico.  But he never made it to Puerto Rico.

Instead, after only a couple of months of dating and a Pesach trip to meet his family, we got engaged.  A few months later, we were married in Jerusalem, Israel, overlooking the Kotel.  And now our first year has passed… It’s amazing how time flies!

G-d had to work hard to get us together, across thousands of miles and several years, but in the end, everything happens in its proper time.  It is a true story of divine providence, as is every story of “how we met.”  But in our case, I think G-d had to work extra hard!

This week, I sat down to dinner with some friends in Montreal.  The head of the household began to tell a story of the dedication of a new Torah in the community.  It was a small Torah, the sofer’s first, and so was very special.  At the celebration, the rabbi said something interesting to the man who was dedicating the Torah.

“I want to know what mitzvah [good deed] you’ve done,” the rabbi said.  “I know this is a great mitzvah to be dedicating this Torah, but I want to know in the merit of what mitzvah you were allowed to do this mitzvah.  What great mitzvot have you been doing in your home, out of the sight of others, with no accolades, that has given you the merit to be able to dedicate this Torah?”

In Judaism, we have a concept that the reward for doing a good deed is that you get to do another good deed. This is contrary to most religions, where the reward for doing a good deed is to get wonderful things here on earth, or “brownie points” up in Heaven.  Judaism isn’t a religion that’s about “what can I get?” or “what is going to happen in the next world?” – it’s about what’s happening in the here and now that’s important.  And what could be more important than doing the right things?  So naturally the reward for doing one mitzvah is that G-d lets you do another one!  Of course, you can get other material and spiritual rewards, but the true reward is getting to do that extra good deed.

I wrote already about the mitzvah of shooing the mother bird away from her nest before you take her eggs.  As I said, this particular mitzvah always struck me as really strange.  Even with an understanding of it, it’s still easy to say, “Okay, that’s a very interesting mitzvah, but it’s not really all that important, in the grand scheme of things.”  Still, we must avoid thoughts like this because every mitzvah is important to G-d.  Birds are G-d’s creatures, too, and who are we to say that showing them compassion is only a minor mitzvah?

If we want to take these ducklings, we must first drive away the mother. It seems such a small mitzvah, yet it brings such a big reward, including the reward of doing another mitzvah! We can never underestimate the power of even a small good deed, such as showing compassion for animals.

One of the ways we can see just how important this mitzvah is, is to look at the reward we get for it.  The passage in the Torah immediately following the one about the bird states that “If you build a new house, you shall make a fence for your roof…”  How is this a reward?  How is it even connected?

Rashi, one of the greatest commentators on the Torah to ever live, explains that “If you fulfilled the commandment of sending away [the mother bird from] the nest, your end [will be] to build a new house.” We can understand this because it says “If you build a new house,” which is something it really doesn’t need to say.  It could simply say “You shall make a fence for your roof,” since this commandment applies to all houses, even if you’re buying or inheriting it.  But as a reward for doing the mitzvah of sending away the mother bird, G-d will give you the gift of building a new house, as a vehicle for you to do the mitzvah of building a fence around the roof, which you may not be able to do on a purchased or inherited house, as the previous owner may have beaten you to it!  The real key, according to Rashi, is that “a commandment drags another commandment [after it]“… in other words, if you do one mitzvah, you get the benefit of doing another one.

As we each try to do more good deeds, we should remember this and look upon it with joy.  No good deed is too small or too insignificant! They are all precious to G-d… sometimes much more than we realize.

Shabbat Shalom!

A friend asked me to see some more photos from my climb up Kilimanjaro with the Everest Peace Project in 2005.

It was an awesome experience and an interesting challenge of keeping Kosher and Shabbat. I’m writing about it in a travel book that, please G-d, will soon be published.

For now here are some photos I’d like to share.

Even top US military experts have said that Israeli military victories can't be explained by conventional means.

One of the most fascinating things about travel is that you meet so many amazing people and if you pay attention, you will learn all sorts of incredible things from them.  Not only does travel mean you live stories, but you also hear stories.  This week, we stayed a few days with the family of one of the kids from Rabbi Ben’s Derech HaTeva trip last year.  So while the two of them were off banging on bongos, I sat with the women and listened to some of the most astounding stories this boy’s mother told.

At one point, it came up in conversation about how miracles happen in Israel all the time.  I heard once about how at one of the most famous military academies in the US, a professor was showing examples of wars and strategies and how they worked out.  Throughout the entire course, he never once mentioned Israel and the wars fought there.  When a Jewish student spoke up and asked why, the professor responded, “I teach military warfare, not miracles!” Israel’s military history simply defies logical explanation: The only way to explain Israel’s victories is that G-d is on our side.  So when our hostess shared a story of salvation with me, I wasn’t at all surprised to hear it.  It was told to her by a soldier she was friends with, who participated in this situation.

These Jewish soldiers see miracles all the time. We can too, if only we open our eyes to see them!

It was 1967 and Israel was under attack.  Up on a small hillside, 15 Israeli soldiers were being attacked by hundreds of  Jordanian soldiers.  As they saw the Jordanian troops approaching, the 15 soldiers made a pact.  They knew they would be killed – they were grossly outnumbered – so they would fight to the death in the defense of their country and they would not give up.  As the Jordanians came closer, as one they all laid down their weapons and surrendered.  The Israeli soldiers were stunned, so, as they marched them to the jail, one Israeli soldier asked one of the Jordanians why they surrendered when there were only 15 Israeli soldiers.  “15 of you?!” came the shocked reply, “I saw you – there were thousands of you!”

In this week’s parsha, Moses gives the Jews encouragement before they enter Israel.  He addresses their fear that other nations will be more numerous, and that without the strength that comes with numbers the Jews will surely fail.  “Do not fear them!” Moses admonishes.  Instead, the Jews are told to remember what G-d did to Pharoah in Egypt and to never fear enemies on account of something like numbers.  I hope we can all keep this very apropos message in mind, given this week’s attacks on Israel.

This is just one of the many promises G-d made to Israel… and it seems to me, from this, and many other stories I’ve heard, that He truly is keeping up His end of the bargain.  If G-d can do these miracles for us, to preserve the People He loves so well, then He can and does surely keep up with all His other promises, too.  All we have to do is to open our eyes and see the miracles that are all around us.

Shabbat shalom.