Come celebrate Lag B’Omer in the Park
BONFIRE (Lag Ba’Omer in the Park)- Join BAC & JUMP as they celebrate the Jewish Festival, Lag BaOmer.
Bring a picnic. Bring your Bongos (or guitars). Bring friends. It’s a great opportunity to take it easy, have some
smores and meet new people.
Date: Tuesday, May 12th, 2009
Time: 7:30pm – 10 pm
Cost: FREE
Contact: Shlomo@jumponline.ca
Learning From Those Who Stray : April 26 with Rabbi Michael Skobac
A growing number of Jews are seeking spiritual nourishment in foreign pastures.
Join Rabbi Michael Skobac for an exploration of this wake up call to our community.
Free admission
For information call 416-789-0020
Sunday April 26 at 8:00 pm
At the Markham Street Shul
397 Markham Street, Toronto
Tonight, Wednesday night, April 22, 2009, we count fourteen days, which is two weeks of the Omer.
Day Seven of Week 2 (14th day of the omer)
Malchut of Gevurah
Discipline, like love, must enhance personal dignity (see week one day seven). Discipline that breaks a person will backfire. Healthy discipline should bolster self-esteem and help elicit the best in a person; cultivating his sovereignty. And that does not compromise the discipline; on the contrary it fosters and enhances it. Does my discipline cripple the human spirit; does it weaken or strengthen me and others?
Exercise for the day: When disciplining your child or student foster his self-respect.
A Spiritual Guide to the Counting of the Omer
Forty-Nine Steps to Personal Refinement
Courtesy of Rabbi Simon Jacobson, www.MeaningfulLife.com
It’s crazy that it was snowing this morning when we went outside of the shul to burn our chametz.
Chag Kasher v’Sameach from all at the Markham St Shul!
by Rabbi David Lapin, 2009 http://iawaken.org
Much has been said and written this year about the once-in-twenty-eight-year phenomenon of Birkat Hachama this Wednesday. There are many dimensions to it: halachik, philosophic, kabbalistic and astronomical. Birkat Hachama is recited on the day that the sun, at sunset, is positioned against the same constellations on a Tuesday evening as it was on the Tuesday evening on which it was created 5770 years ago. This is one of the few occasions in our calendar governed by solar rather than lunar cycles (the other being the day we start to recite “vetein tal umattar” in chutz la’aretz).
Our Calendar is unique among the nations and cultures of the world. It is the only calendar that synchronizes both the solar and the lunar cycles in one integrated calendar system. The movement of the moon governs our months and our year. The cycle of the sun governs our Sabbath as it does our leap year and the positioning of our chaggim in their appropriate seasons.
Synchronizing lunar and solar cycles in an integrated calendar is about more than timing and seasons. The Sun and the Moon, the two primary celestial luminaries, each represent different modes of being. The Sun is ever constant and never changing. It looks the same each day. Even an astronomical amateur knows with a fair measure of precision where to expect the sun to rise each morning and where it will set. Its cycle moves a little each day to the north or the south, but this is not perceptible to the average person on a daily basis.
The moon on the other hand is ever changing and never constant. Every night it looks noticeably different. The average person doesn’t really know where it will rise and set each night.
The moon governs our months, known in Hebrew as Chodesh, which means new. The sun governs our year, Shannah in Hebrew, which means recycleor repetition. We need both disciplines: We need to build “grooves”, seder, for ourselves by constant repetition. These grooves create habits that guarantee at least some measure of consistent behavior and even achievement. Our davening is a daily “groove”. So are our Yamim Tovim and Shabbat. However if all we do is function in grooves, those grooves become ruts, and we become stale and stagnant. In addition to our seder, our grooves, we also need newness, vitality, experimentation, and exploration. We need chidush. The moon represents this chidush, this newness and innovation. The sun with its constancy, predictability and stability represents our seder. We need both. The moon wanes and grows; the sun is unvarying.
In Torah learning and thought a similar principle applies: Chidush (innovation) is core to Torah learning. “Bechol Yom yiheyu be’einecha kechadashim” (Each day the words of the Torah should be as if they are new). Yet all Torah innovation needs to be constructed within unchanging frameworks of mesorah (authentic methodology). The term mishnah comes from the same root as shanah.
In finance and economics we have similar principles. We need the ever-changing, volatile, unpredictable equity markets as much as we need more stable markets for more predictable instruments like government bonds. When innovation is not tempered with stability, we experience the kinds of seismic shake-up that our financial markets have been experiencing now. If we punish innovation and swing the pendulum to cling to safety and security, we deny ourselves the exhilaration of adventure and discovery. If we encourage unrestrained risk, we will destroy what our parents have built. If we stop investing in anything that is not secure we will leave nothing for our children. We need to develop the fine art of innovating without being reckless, of treading cautiously without shutting off the joys of human brilliance.
The Jew lives this exciting paradox of stability and volatility. Like Jacob’s ladder our feet are meant to be planted firmly on earth, while with our minds and our souls we explore, innovate and visit the highest reaches of spiritual achievement. We create behavioral grooves to guarantee our safety and we innovate to expand our experience.
On Wednesday, as we bless G-d for His creation and sustaining of the sun, we will marvel at the universe’s predictability. At the same time of the year we will emphasize the mitzvah of Hachodesh hazeh lachem (this New Moon is for you) and celebrate our capacities for individual and national renewal.
Birkat Hachama
Erev Pesach 5769
by Rabbi David Lapin, http://iawaken.org
Much has been said and written this year about the once-in-twenty-eight-year phenomenon of Birkat Hachama this Wednesday. There are many dimensions to it: halachik, philosophic, kabbalistic and astronomical. Birkat Hachama is recited on the day that the sun, at sunset, is positioned against the same constellations on a Tuesday evening as it was on the Tuesday evening on which it was created 5770 years ago. This is one of the few occasions in our calendar governed by solar rather than lunar cycles (the other being the day we start to recite “vetein tal umattar” in chutz la’aretz).
Our Calendar is unique among the nations and cultures of the world. It is the only calendar that synchronizes both the solar and the lunar cycles in one integrated calendar system. The movement of the moon governs our months and our year. The cycle of the sun governs our Sabbath as it does our leap year and the positioning of our chaggim in their appropriate seasons.
Synchronizing lunar and solar cycles in an integrated calendar is about more than timing and seasons. The Sun and the Moon, the two primary celestial luminaries, each represent different modes of being. The Sun is ever constant and never changing. It looks the same each day. Even an astronomical amateur knows with a fair measure of precision where to expect the sun to rise each morning and where it will set. Its cycle moves a little each day to the north or the south, but this is not perceptible to the average person on a daily basis.
The moon on the other hand is ever changing and never constant. Every night it looks noticeably different. The average person doesn’t really know where it will rise and set each night.
The moon governs our months, known in Hebrew as Chodesh, which means new. The sun governs our year, Shannah in Hebrew, which means recycleor repetition. We need both disciplines: We need to build “grooves”, seder, for ourselves by constant repetition. These grooves create habits that guarantee at least some measure of consistent behavior and even achievement. Our davening is a daily “groove”. So are our Yamim Tovim and Shabbat. However if all we do is function in grooves, those grooves become ruts, and we become stale and stagnant. In addition to our seder, our grooves, we also need newness, vitality, experimentation, and exploration. We need chidush. The moon represents this chidush, this newness and innovation. The sun with its constancy, predictability and stability represents our seder. We need both. The moon wanes and grows; the sun is unvarying.
In Torah learning and thought a similar principle applies: Chidush (innovation) is core to Torah learning. “Bechol Yom yiheyu be’einecha kechadashim” (Each day the words of the Torah should be as if they are new). Yet all Torah innovation needs to be constructed within unchanging frameworks of mesorah (authentic methodology). The term mishnah comes from the same root as shanah.
In finance and economics we have similar principles. We need the ever-changing, volatile, unpredictable equity markets as much as we need more stable markets for more predictable instruments like government bonds. When innovation is not tempered with stability, we experience the kinds of seismic shake-up that our financial markets have been experiencing now. If we punish innovation and swing the pendulum to cling to safety and security, we deny ourselves the exhilaration of adventure and discovery. If we encourage unrestrained risk, we will destroy what our parents have built. If we stop investing in anything that is not secure we will leave nothing for our children. We need to develop the fine art of innovating without being reckless, of treading cautiously without shutting off the joys of human brilliance.
The Jew lives this exciting paradox of stability and volatility. Like Jacob’s ladder our feet are meant to be planted firmly on earth, while with our minds and our souls we explore, innovate and visit the highest reaches of spiritual achievement. We create behavioral grooves to guarantee our safety and we innovate to expand our experience.
On Wednesday, as we bless G-d for His creation and sustaining of the sun, we will marvel at the universe’s predictability. At the same time of the year we will emphasize the mitzvah of Hachodesh hazeh lachem (this New Moon is for you) and celebrate our capacities for individual and national renewal.
Come hear the Megillah on Monday night immediately following Minchah/Arvit.
Purim 5769: The Spark Between The Poles
Copyright Rabbi David Lapin, iawaken.org
Should Women Read the Megilah?
Gaps between the roles and competencies of modern men and women have narrowed. There are not that many areas in which, as a generalization, one gender consistently outperforms the other. Still, there is a yin/yang kind of polarity between masculinity and femininity that we lose at our peril. Masculine and feminine polarity creates energy like the electricity created by the polarity of positive and negative. There can be comfort without polarity, but not energy. Masculine-feminine polarity generates the balance of universal energy, it underpins kedushah (sanctity), and it nourishes successful relationships.
This masculine-feminine polarity helps to explain aspects of women’s roles in public Avodah such as Tefilah Betzibbur, Keriat Hatorah and Mikrah Megilah (Public prayer, Torah reading and Megilah reading). These roles are often socially contentious and Halachikly complex.
The case of Mikrah Megilah is particularly interesting. Women are chayavot (obligated) to hear the Megilah but, according to the Shulchan Aruch (O.Ch: 689:2), are not able to read the Megilah on behalf of men. Why, at least in communities where this would not be considered inappropriate (Kavod Hatzibbur) or within the confines of a private home, should a man not fulfill his mitzvah if he heard the Megillah read by a woman?
Reading To or Reading For?
There is something quite unique about the mitzvah of Megillah-reading that is different from Torah-reading. In the case of Torah reading one is required to hear the Torah being read from a kosher scroll. In the case of Megillah, the mitzvah is to read the Megilah, not merely to hear it read. The Ba’al Korei (reader) in the case of Megilah, is not reading it to the community, he is reading it as their shaliach, on behalf of the community. He represents and stands in place of each person in the community. When he reads, it is as if each individual is reading from the scroll.
Continue Reading »
By Tali Loewenthal, Chabad.org
Alone with G‑d on Mount Sinai, Moses learnt the details of building the Sanctuary, the portable Temple described in this week’s Torah reading. This was to be the spiritual centre for the Jews, and eventually for the whole world: the place where the Shechinah, the Presence of G‑d, would be revealed.
The Sanctuary was constructed of heavy wooden planks standing upright. Each plank was supported at its base by two heavy blocks of silver. The plank slotted into these. The upright planks were overlaid with gold and securely fastened together. These planks formed the walls of the Sanctuary, and layers of curtaining formed the roof.
Inside the Sanctuary were the Menorah, a Table and an Altar for incense, all made of gold. Behind a beautifully embroidered curtain was the Holy of Holies, containing the golden Ark. Inside this were the sapphire tablets with the Ten Commandments engraved on them, which Moses brought down from Sinai.
The Sanctuary built by Moses existed long ago, and in the form of the Temple will again be rebuilt in Jerusalem. But there is also an inner Sanctuary, within the heart of every man and woman. The details of the physical Sanctuary described in our Parshah help us understand how we can build this inner Sanctuary, so that the Presence of G‑d should be revealed there too, within us.
The acacia wood of which the Sanctuary was made has in Hebrew a strange name. It can be translated as “the wood of folly.”
This helps us understand the purpose of the Sanctuary, and of life.
There is a level of ordinary, civilized behavior. This is the norm. Low, base and callous behavior means acting in a way which is lower than this norm: this is folly. All sin and evil come from this lower kind of folly.
But there is also another kind of folly, which entails going above the norm. This is termed “sacred folly.” Through faith, dedication, devotion and love, the person goes beyond their ordinary level. He or she makes a step which might be exceptional. Imagine a person deciding to put on tefilin every day, or to change round the kitchen so as to make it truly kosher.
Judaism is based on the power generated by such decisions. We have survived for thousands of years because of the power of this “sacred folly,” our willingness - occasionally - to go beyond the norm of conventional rationality. The leap forward which we then achieve redeems the blunders and excesses of our lower, unpleasant folly. Bad is changed into good, darkness into light. It is through this process that we build our inner Sanctuary.
This is why the Sanctuary was built of acacia wood, “wood of folly.” Through the quest to advance we go beyond ordinary reason into the realm of sacred folly, transforming our coarse, worldly folly into something spiritual. Thus we reveal the radiant Shechinah, the Presence of G‑d. It illuminates the Sanctuary in our heart, our home, our life and ultimately, from the Temple in Jerusalem, the entire world.1
FOOTNOTES
1. Based freely on the discourse by Rabbi Yosef Yitzhak Schneersohn, Bati LeGani, ch. 5.
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