Question:

I find Yom Kippur depressing. Why spend a day focusing on our sins and failures? Do we need to be reminded how far we are from being perfect?

Answer:

Yom Kippur is a celebration of being human. And being human means being imperfect.

Human failure is so predictable, G-d has placed on the calendar an annual day of forgiveness. It is not an optional holiday only for those who happen to have sinned. Yom Kippur comes every single year for every single person. It is as if we are expected to sin, that there will always be mess-ups that we have to make amends for. G-d is so not surprised by our failings that He allows a clean-up day every year. We were never meant to be perfect.

Every Yom Kippur we receive a note from G-d saying something like this:

I know you are human. Humans are not perfect. I made you that way. And I love you anyway. In fact, that’s why I love you – because you are not perfect. I already had perfection before I created you. What I want from creation is an imperfect world that strives to improve, filled with human beings that fail, get up and move ahead. By being imperfect but persevering nevertheless, you have fulfilled the purpose of your creation. You have achieved the one thing that I can’t do without you – you have brought the perfect G-d into an imperfect world.

Thanks.

With Love, G-d

For all of us who are not perfect, Yom Kippur is our day. Rather than be depressed by failings, we celebrate them. Every sin, every slip up, every failed attempt at living up to our calling is another opportunity to grow and improve. Failing at our mission is itself a part of the mission.

Yom Kippur is the day G-d thanks us for being human, and we thank G-d that we aren’t perfect. If we were, we’d have nothing to do.

Question

Why do we celebrate Sukkos immediately after the High Holydays? Is there a connection between Yom Kippur and eating in an outdoor hut for a week?

Answer:

The first thing we do in the new year is make resolutions. The second thing we do is break them. At a moment of inspiration we promise to curb our temper, become more generous, speak to G-d more or quit a bad habit, but soon after we go back to our old ways as if nothing happened. Often a sincere resolution is forgotten as quickly as it was made.

The reason: compartmentalisation. Our personalities are divided. One part of us truly wants to improve and grow, while other parts of us are lazy and complacent. My mind tells me one thing but my heart feels otherwise. My soul has good intentions but my body comes in the way. The resolution is being made by my higher self; it is being broken by my lower self.

The solution: enter a Sukkah. We sit in the Sukkah with our entire being – our body and our soul, our heart and our mind, our lowly side as well as our lofty side. It is one of the only mitzvas that we do with our whole person. On Yom Kippur we neglect our body to allow the soul’s tru enature to shine forth; on Sukkos we invite our body to join in on the inspiration. Then the resolutions of the soul are implemented by the body.

The Sukkah experience is one of wholesomeness. By bringing our whole self into a holy space, our resolve from Yom Kippur can be translated into reality. Don’t miss out on this festival, the one that brings the High Holydays down to earth.

Question

I was in your shule on Friday night and couldn’t believe my eyes. I saw a guy I knew from years back who is the last person I would ever expect to find praying. Let’s just say that he certainly wasn’t the spiritual type when I knew him. If anything he was anti-religion. But now he has become a regular at your services. How did you get him there? (By the way I love your emails and always enjoy reading them.)

Answer:

Thanks for the feedback. I am glad you enjoy the emails, and I appreciate you telling me. That is the only way I can know how my writing is being received.

I receive three types of feedback. Some write something like, “Great email”. That’s nice. Even better is, “I forwarded that to my whole list”. But the best compliment is disagreement. Negative feedback is the most positive feedback I can get.

Indifference is a writers nightmare. If I deliver a dramatic email and get no response, no questions or objections, then it probably wasn’t read at all. My words didn’t penetrate. But when I receive vehement protests and strong counter-arguments, then I know that I have touched someone. They protest because they have taken me seriously, their outlook has been challenged and so they feel the need to defend their position. That’s the type of reader I am looking for – one who doesn’t agree, and says so. Then we can have a conversation.

So too in our discourse with G-d. Every one of us has a soul, whether we consider ourselves spiritual or not, and every soul is involved in a constant dialogue with G-d. We each react differently to what G-d has to say, we may or may not respond, but we all are involved in the conversation.

Some are indifferent to G-d. His call to their soul doesn’t touch them, either because they are not ready to hear it or because they don’t want to. That is a tough audience. Others agree with whatever G-d says. They are the rare souls who seem to naturally follow the divine will. Then there are the those who struggle with G-d and resist what He says. They are the ones to watch.

A person who is resistant to religion is very likely the one who is most touched by it. It resonates so deeply, if they don’t resist, they will have to pursue it. If they are honest with themselves, they will recognise that they are disagreeing because they know it’s so true. They hear the irresistible call of G-d to come closer, and in time they will realise that there is nothing to fear. That’s when they drop their resistance and let their soul go free.

If you are arguing against G-d, you are not far away. As long as you are thinking and responding, you are a part of the divine conversation. Disagree?

Question:

Rabbi, I appreciate your invitation to join your classes, but I just don’t have time in my life for spirituality right now. My week is packed with work, family commitments, fitness and a little socialising and time to relax. I don’t see where I can fit in spiritual activities. I don’t want to burn out, do I?

Answer:

There was once a rabbi teaching a classroom full of students. He started his lesson by saying, “My dear students, today is our last class together before you graduate. For this special occasion I am going to do something different. I am going to teach you the secret of a good cholent.”

The students were aghast. Cholent, the traditional Shabbos stew, is a classic of Jewish cooking, but hardly a profound subject for a rabbi to teach his students for their final lesson.

The rabbi took out a crockpot and filled it to the brim with potatoes. He then turned to his students and asked, “Tell me, now that I have filled the pot with potatoes – is the pot full?”

“Yes,” his students replied, confused by the simplicity of the question, for there was no way to fit in any more potatoes into the pot.

With a smile the rabbi took out a bag of beans and poured it into the pot, and the beans managed to slip between the spaces among the potatoes. “Ok,” said the rabbi, “now is the pot full?” Looking into the pot the students agreed that it was indeed full.

Without missing a beat the rabbi took out a bag of barley and poured it into the pot. The small kernels meandered effortlessly between the cracks and crevices among the potatoes and beans.

“Now it’s full,” said the students.

“Really?” said the rabbi, taking out his collection of spices. He then began shaking generous amounts of salt, pepper, paprika and garlic powder all over the pot. The students watched dumbfounded as the spices easily settled into what had seemed to be a completely full pot.

The rabbi, obviously enjoying himself, asked again, “Is it full yet?”

Without waiting for the answer, the rabbi produced a jug of water and proceeded to pour its contents into the pot. To the amazement of his students, he was able to empty the entire jug of water into the pot without a drop spilling over the sides.

“Alright, ” said the rabbi, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Now it really is full, right?” The students all nodded in agreement. “Are you sure?” prodded the rabbi., “Are you absolutely certain that I can’t fit anything more into this pot?” Suddenly unsure of themselves, the students looked at each other nervously and said, “Surely you can’t put anything else into there!”

With drama and pathos, the rabbi raised a finger in the air, lowered it slowly and flicked a switch on the side of the pot, turning on the heating element lying beneath. “You see,” said the rabbi triumphantly, “I just filled the pot with the most important ingredient of all – warmth. Without it, the pot may as well be empty.”

The rabbi paused, and looked deeply into the eyes of his stunned students. “My children,” he finally addressed them, “you are about to leave my class and go on to live busy lives. In the big world out there you will no longer have the luxury of studying holy texts all day. In time you will be consumed by the pressures of looking after a family and making a living. But always remember this: your material pursuits are just the potatoes and beans of life. Your spirituality, that is the warmth.

“Until the fire is turned on, the pot is full of disparate ingredients. It is the warmth that unites them all into one single stew.

“If you don’t maintain a spiritual connection, through praying every day, studying the holy books, and keeping focused on the true meaning of your lives, then you will end up as a cold cholent – very busy, very full, but completely empty. When you have lost touch with your soul, your family life will suffer, your career will be unfulfilling, you won’t even be motivated to exercise.

“But if you keep the fire burning in your soul, if you stick to a daily schedule that nourishes the spirit, even if it is only for a few minutes a day, then those few minutes will bring warmth and inspiration to all your other activities. A spiritual connection imbues your entire life with meaning, keeps you anchored and directed, inspired and motivated. It permeates all you do with a sense of purpose, and makes you succeed.”

“You may be wondering,” continued the rabbi, “how will you have time for all this? How will you be able to juggle the demands of material life along with your spiritual development? You will find the answer by looking at the cholent. Did you notice that though the pot seemed full of potatoes and beans, barley, spices and water, when I added the warmth it did not overflow? Never think that adding spirituality to your schedule will overburden you. On the contrary, it will bring everything else in your life together, because it will remind you why you do all these other things in the first place – you work in order to be able to live a life of meaning, you get married in order to bring the best out in yourself and your spouse, you have children in order to educate them in the ways of goodness, you keep fit in order to have the strength to fulfil your mission. Spirituality is the warmth that does not take up space, it creates more.”

With a loving smile the rabbi concluded his farewell with words of wisdom that I think apply equally to you:

“You should never think that you are so busy that you can’t afford to concentrate on your soul. The truth is, you can’t afford not to. May G-d bless you, that each and every one of you should always be a warm pot of cholent.”

Question:

My girlfriend of two years isn’t sure she wants to get married because she thinks something is missing. She can’t define it, but just says she feels “it” hasn’t clicked. I felt a click a long time ago and would very much like to marry and spend my life with her. She knows she loves me but has doubts because she isn’t feeling “it”. We are just going around in circles and it is driving me crazy. What do you think I can do?

Answer:

This clicking thing causes a lot of problems. Some people are quick clickers. Others take more time. It sounds like your click was too quick.

It often happens that one party develops feelings faster than the other. But it can complicate things. It seems that when you clicked on, she clicked off. As soon as she knew that she has you, that you are in, that your mind is made up, her heart got lazy. She knew she didn’t have to work hard for you any more, she no longer needed to put in any effort, and so her feelings stalled. And she is still stuck there, unclicked and unable to develop her emotions for you.

There is only one solution. She needs to feel that she may lose you. She needs to feel that she must win you over again, that you are not a done deal. You have to give her the chance to feel that she needs you in her life, and that she needs to win you back.

The best way to achieve this is to take a break from each other. And you have to initiate it. Tell her that you respect her feelings of doubt, but you can’t just keep dangling around. It is not good for either of you, nor for the relationship. Suggest that by not seeing each other for a while you will both have the space to clarify your feelings and decide whether to take the next step together, or to move apart.

This should not be presented as a false threat, but rather as an honest and mature approach to solve the stalemate you have reached. It will be hard for you to say it, but say it you must. She needs to hear that you won’t hang around forever. And let me tell you, if she really is the one for you, just hearing that you want a break may be all it takes to get her heart clicking.

Question:

Why is Judaism passed down through the mother? I understand in olden times it was easy to know who your mother was and there was no way of proving fatherhood. But these days we have DNA testing, so why can’t someone be Jewish even if only their father is Jewish?

Answer:

Jewishness is not in our DNA. It is in our soul. The reason it is passed through the maternal line is not just because it is easier to identify who your mother is. It is because the soul identity is more directly shaped by the mother than the father.

From a purely physical perspective, a child is more directly connected to their mother. The father’s contribution to the production of a child is instantaneous, remote and short-lived. The mother on the other hand gives her very self. The child is conceived inside the mother, develops inside the mother, is sustained and nourished by the mother, and is born from the mother.

This is not to say that a father and child are not intimately attached. Of course they are. But as deep and essential as the bond between father and child may be, the child’s actual body was never a part of her father’s body. But she was a part of her mother. Every child begins as an extension of their mother’s body.

This is a simple fact. It doesn’t mean she will be closer to her mother, or more similar to her mother, or follow her mother’s ways. We are not discussing the emotional bond between parent and child, but rather the natural physical bond. There is a more direct physical link between mother and child, because a child starts off as a part of her mother.

The body and its workings are a mirror image of the workings of the soul. The physical world is a parallel of the spiritual world. And so, the direct physical link between mother and child is a reflection of a soul link between them. While the father’s soul contributes to the identity of the child’s soul, it is the mother’s soul that actually defines it. If the mother has a Jewish soul, the child does too.

If the mother is not Jewish but the father is, his Jewish soul will not be extended to the child. There may be a spark of Jewishness there, but if it was not gestated in a Jewish mother, the child will have to go through conversion for their Jewishness to be activated.

Other religions are passed down by the father. Jewishness is passed down by the mother, because being Jewish is a spiritual identity, it defines our very being. And our very being we get from our mother, both in body and in soul.

Question:

My brother is losing his fight for life. The chemotherapy treatment has not worked, and I need to say goodbye to him. I cannot accept his death, he is so young and I love him so much. Can you help me to accept this pain in my heart?

Answer:

I feel for you in this most heart wrenching time. It is horrible for anyone to witness a loved one go through such agony. I wish you much strength, and pray that you do not lose hope.

There is no way to avoid the pain that comes with loss. But there is an approach to it that can make the pain slightly more bearable. This comes by learning to focus on the soul rather than the body.

The body is limited and finite. It is born and it dies. It can be healthy and it can get sick. No one is here forever. No body escapes death.

But the soul lives on. The soul has an existence that is beyond the confines of life and death in this world. Our time here is merely a short chapter in a long story. During our lifetime, this world is all we see. But deep down we are aware that there is more. We know that while our material possessions and worldly achievements will die with us, our spiritual wealth and the good we do will live on. The soul does not die.

Your brother’s body is weak. But his soul is strong. His true self, his inner self, is very much alive and will continue to be so. And it is his true self that you love, that you are connected to and that you yearn for. The brother you love is the person he is, his character and his presence, not his flesh and bones. Ultimately it is not his body that you love, but his soul.

The more soulful you are in your own life, the more you will be able to stay connected to your brother’s soul. Through prayer, through Torah study, through charity and good deeds, you become more attuned to your soul and your spiritual side. Become more in touch with the real you, and you will see beyond the suffering body to the real him.

Of course, we would rather just be able to connect with our loved ones like we always did, to talk and laugh with them, to hear and hold them. We don’t want our relationship to have to become abstract and spiritual. But sadly, this is the reality, until G-d puts an end to all suffering and death, when Moshiach comes. May it be soon. May it be now.

Question:

My religious observance has started to become neurotic. I am forever worried if I am doing things 100% right. Did I say the correct blessing? Did I wash my hands correctly before the meal? Did I accidently break Shabbos? I am scared I am becoming compulsive. On the other hand, I do want to take Jewish law seriously. Can I be fully observant and not go mad?

Answer:

Being careful about mitzvos is a very good thing. When it comes to fulfilling the divine will, every detail matters. But there is a limit. I learnt this when I was studying to be a rabbi. I had a powerful experience that forever changed my view of G-d and His laws.

I was studying in Israel in a rabbinical school with several hundred other students. One morning, just after prayers, one of my friends came over to me with a concerned look on his face. “I think your Tefillin may not be kosher,” he told me. (Tefillin are phylacteries. I don’t know what phylacteries are.) I asked him what he meant, and he pointed out to me that my head Tefillin didn’t look perfectly square. It seemed that one of the corners was not an exact right angle.

This was serious. The hand-made leather boxes of the Tefillin are supposed to be square. If they are not square, then they are not Tefillin. They aren’t even phylacteries. If my friend was right, if my Tefillin were slightly off, then I hadn’t been wearing kosher Tefillin for years. I had been putting on unsquare unkosher Tefillin every day, which is as good as not putting Tefillin on at all.

I knew what I needed to do. I needed my head Tefillin examined. I rushed straight away to an expert in Jewish law. He was a senior rabbi who was famous for his decisive and clear judgments in Jewish law. I brought him my Tefillin and asked if he could advise me. I showed him the black leather box, pointing out the imperfect corner, and fearfully awaited his verdict.

The rabbi inspected the Tefillin, looked at me with his kind and wise eyes and smiled. He responded with one line, a quote from the Talmud: “The Torah wasn’t given to angels.”

I immediately understood what he meant. My Tefillin were just fine. When the Torah says to make your Tefillin square, it means you should make them as square as human hands are capable of doing. We are not angels who can make perfect angles. We are humans who can only do our best. And that is exactly what G-d requires from us.

If G-d wanted perfection, He would not have created us fallible humans. So obviously that’s not what He wants. He wants us humans, with all our imperfections, to make every effort within our means to fulfil our divine purpose.

That means our squares won’t be absolutely perfect squares, and our angles won’t be exactly right. It means we all make mistakes and get it wrong sometimes. But that’s alright. We are not angels. We are not expected to be. To do our utmost, and yet remain imperfect, that is perfectly human.

A lively Shabbos service filled with song and inspiration. Easy to follow and welcoming atmosphere. Followed by Kiddush.  6:30pm to 7:15pm every week. (Mincha 10 mins after candle lighting) at Nefesh, 54 Roscoe St Bondi Beach

An introductory class to Talmud for both men and women, focusing on Tamludic logic and methodology. Every Sunday morning, Shachris 8am, Shiur 9am – 9:45am at Nefesh, 54 Roscoe St Bondi Beach.