Question:

I saw the craziest thing in the “Code of Jewish Law”. It tells you how to tie your shoes! You are supposed to put your right shoe on before the left shoe, and then you have to tie the left shoelace before the right shoelace. And when taking them off it’s the opposite: untie the right then the left, take off the left then the right. And a lefty does it all the other way around.

Maybe I’m missing something, but where is the great moral lesson in that? Am I a better person if I tie my shoes in a special way?

Answer:

The shape of the human body reflects the contours of the human soul. Our body has two sides, right and left, because the soul has two distinct powers, called chessed and gevurah.

Chessed is the power to give, be outward and expressive; gevurah is the power to hold back, be inward and restrained. These are the two sides of the soul, the side of kindness and the side of discipline, that correspond to the two sides of the body, the right side and the left.

Both powers are essential. The secret to a healthy life and successful relationships is knowing how to balance these two forces – when to be assertive and when to submit; when to be lenient and when to be strict; when to let yourself go and when to just say no.

In Kabbalah, the stronger side (the right for right-handed people, left side for lefties) represents giving, and the weaker side symbolises holding back. This is to teach us that our power of chessed should be more dominant than our power of gevurah. While both powers are important, the ideal is to have a higher measure of kindness than discipline.

Ideals are concretised through actions. We can be deeply influenced by the symbolism of even simple acts that we perform – down to the way we get dressed.

Putting on a shoe is an act of giving (to your foot), which is chessed, so you put the shoe on your stronger foot first. You then tie the lace on the weaker foot, as tying is an act of restraint, which is gevurah.

However, untying a shoe is releasing and letting go – a chessed movement. So when you are untying shoelaces the stronger foot takes precedence. Removing your shoe is taking away, an act of discipline and gevurah, so for that the weaker comes first. It all symbolises the same point – discipline is important, but kindness should always dominate.

Imagine having to stop and think before putting on your shoes every day. Suddenly the most mundane routine becomes a meditation. If I am even mindful of the significance of my shoelaces, then how much more must I be considerate of the way I act toward the people around me, ensuring that while I use the necessary restraint, I save my stronger hand for kindness.

Question:

I like your questions and answers, but sometimes I think you miss the point. Not all questioners are looking for answers. Some are just looking for questions.

Many people ask questions about Judaism not because they want an answer, but really because they want to have a question. They like having an issue with Judaism, because that gives them an excuse not to engage in it. Often when someone says, “Why does G-d allow so much suffering?” or “Why is Judaism so sexist/racist/elitist/whatever?” they are not interested in hearing an answer. The question is just their defense, their reason for remaining ignorant and not thinking any further. It’s really just a statement disguised as a question. The last thing they want is a rational explanation.

So with all your good comebacks, what would you respond to someone who asks a question, but doesn’t really want an answer?

Answer:

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Moss

Question:

Shavuos is when we celebrate G-d giving the Torah to the Jewish people at Mt Sinai. So why is it celebrated by eating cheesecake? Shouldn’t this, the holiest event in history, be acknowledged in a more spiritual way than just eating?

Answer:

Some have suggested that eating cheesecake on Shavuos is based on a spelling mistake. An early English Bible read, “And G-d spoke to the Israelites in the middle of the dessert…”

But I think there’s more to it.

Spirituality existed long before Judaism. People prayed and meditated, brought sacrifices and served their deities many centuries before Moses climbed Mt Sinai. Judaism didn’t invent spirituality. It was around before.

But what was not around before was the idea that your physical life can be made holy. People knew that G-d was in heaven, but never dreamed that you could find Him on earth. All religious thinking went along the same lines: we are physical beings in a physical world, G-d is a spiritual being in a higher world. To reach G-d, we must negate our physical self and reach toward heaven.

Suddenly the Torah came along and said something no one ever thought could be true: G-d can be found in cheesecake too. You can’t limit G-d to being only in the spiritual. He is infinite, which means no place is too low for His presence. You can find G-d right here in the physical world. It may take some work, but that’s what we are here for – to transform our bodily self and our physical world into a home for G-d.

While other spiritual traditions emphasized abstinence, celibacy and other-worldliness, Judaism emphasizes this-worldliness, by enjoining us to create sanctity in our family life, to view the home as a sanctuary, and the workplace as an arena for kindness and integrity. Don’t seek G-d in the heavens; reveal Him right down here on earth.

So we celebrate the giving of the Torah by eating cheesecake, one of the most physical and indulgent activities you could possibly imagine. Because to find G-d in meditation is a spiritual experience; but when you find G-d in the middle of dessert, that’s experiencing infinity.

My family suffered a great loss with the passing of my grandfather almost 2 years ago. Since then, some members of the family have found great comfort and solace in consulting with a psychic medium to get messages from ‘the other side’. The psychic is often very accurate and it is chilling how the messages are able to come through.
I worry though what the Jewish perspective is on this all. Does Judaism believe in this practice at all? Is there any harm to her or to ourselves?

Death does not end a relationship. It just changes the mode of contact. The Torah specifies ways that we can connect to souls on high, and ways that we shouldn’t.

We are forbidden to call upon them through mediums, not because it doesn’t work, but because it’s simply not nice. We should not disturb their rest. There is a reason that souls move on to higher places – that is where they belong. By using spiritual tactics to communicate with them we drag them back down here, and impede their journey upwards.

But there are gentle ways of connecting with the departed without disturbing them. If we visit their grave, it is like leaving a message in their supernal inbox. They will get it. And they may even respond, in their own way. But we mustn’t force it.

More than that, we can send them love packages. Every time we do something good in their memory – an act of charity, a prayer, kaddish, or any mitzvah that is done in honour of their soul – this gives them a spiritual lift, and eases the elevation of their soul to higher places of rest.

I am sure the family would rather elevate your grandfather’s soul than drag it down. It is not worth the temporary solace it may provide if it means harming the soul of a loved one. So they should rather honour him by doing more good. That will be of benefit the doer, the receiver and the soul of your grandfather.

Why is dating so hard these days? Never in history have people struggled with relationships so much. So many of my friends are still single and looking. And even my married friends seem to have to work hard to keep it together. What’s wrong with us?

We are a generation of complicated souls. Some of it is our own doing, but some of it is the destiny thrust upon us. The knotty world of modern dating is partly a reflection of the complex nature of the modern soul.
The search for a soulmate will be made easier or harder depending on what type of soul you have. The master kabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luria taught that only new souls have an easy time finding their soulmate. When your soul comes to this world for the first time, you are fresh and unencumbered. Your vision is clear and your heart is open, and it is easy to recognise your soulmate.
But for those souls who have been here before, reincarnated souls, it doesn’t come so easily. Reincarnated souls come to the world with the baggage of their previous life, and though every soul is born pure, a reincarnated soul is born complicated.
So while a new soul will meet and recognise their soulmate immediately, an old soul will have to work harder. They may have to meet many others before they meet the right one. They may need to do a lot of growing and inner development before being ready to recognise their soulmate. There is a lot of stuff to get over first – like unrealistic expectations, over-specific requirements, exaggerated self-images, superficial hang-ups and the residue of relationships of the past. And even when soulmates do find each other, they will have to work hard to make things work.
The kabbalists declared that almost all souls these days have been here before. Very few new souls are coming down. So we can expect the search for soulmates to be more challenging now than ever. Our souls are carrying baggage – some we have inherited and some our own doing – and only by working through those layers do we remove the barriers that stand between our soul and our soulmate.
The best way to bring about meeting your soulmate is to be more in touch with your own soul. When your soul is pulsating with inspiration and clarity, when you are spiritually grounded and bringing goodness to your surroundings, then you are most prone to meeting your soulmate. It may take some effort, but that is your destiny.

I have a good marriage. But I’m bored of my wife, and she is bored of me. Neither of us have done anything wrong, we just simply have lost the excitement for each other. This worries me as we haven’t been married all that long. Is this normal?

You’re going through a crucial stage. Everyone faces it. How you deal with it is vital to your spiritual future. And you can learn what to do from a caterpillar.

We go through life in this world like a caterpillar climbing a staircase. For the caterpillar, stairs are a challenge. After a short upwards incline, the caterpillar reaches a plateau, a long flat surface that is not going up at all. Things go smoothly for a while as the caterpillar traverses this surface, until the he hits a wall. It seems like the end of the road. The journey can go no further.

But after bumping into this wall, the caterpillar looks around and realises that the journey is not over at all. The only way is up. So the caterpillar starts climbing. He then understands that this was no dead end. It was the next step upwards, to reach a new height. What seemed like an obstacle was actually an invitation to go higher.

The same happens in life, and in marriage. After an initial high we come to a flat period, where things just coast along. Eventually we hit a wall, a frustrating blockage, where we feel uninspired and indifferent, and it seems there is no way out. This is normal. We are being beckoned to go to a higher level, to raise ourselves above our current state and reach upward. It is at this moment that we need to look up and start climbing.

The marriage you had before this slump was good for then, but for now it is not good enough. As time passes, your relationship has to grow. Which means you need to reach deeper within yourself, find new levels of commitment and giving, and discover new levels of depth in your partner. The boredom you’re feeling is a good sign – it means you are ready to graduate to a new level.

Life can’t always be a steep incline. That would be too exhausting. The plateaus give us time to reenergise, and are just there to prepare us to go to the next level. The challenge is in front of you. Grab it, and caterpillar your way to new heights.

What’s done is done. I had an abortion years ago. I did it to avoid shame, but instead I am riddled with guilt. Even though I can’t reverse what I have done, is there some way to alleviate the burden I am carrying? Can I somehow make amends? Am I condemned to a life of guilty feelings?

Guilt is to the soul what pain is to the body. Pain itself is not a good thing, but it does serve a purpose. It alerts you that there is something wrong that requires action.
Guilt serves a purpose too. To allow guilt to eat away at us is pointless. Rather, guilt is there to be used as a catalyst for improvement and becoming a better person. We must recognise the mistakes we make, take responsibility for them and not blame others – even if others were partially to blame – and then resolve to be better for the experience. We must turn around the negative feelings, so they can propel us to do more good.

In the case of someone who wrongly had an abortion, perhaps one way to channel the guilt into positivity would be to take on a project that will specifically benefit unwanted or abandoned children. The ultimate would be to actually adopt such a child, but that is not always possible. Here are some other suggestions: volunteer time and donate money to an orphanage; become a “big sister” to a child that needs extra support; or help out a friend or family member who is bringing up their children in difficult circumstances, such as a single mother or someone battling serious illness.
Guilt creates a void in our soul. Fill that void with something meaningful. Redirect your energy towards a new venture that will benefit someone in need. That way you don’t just alleviate the guilt, you actually transform it into an impetus for good.

You can’t bring back the potential that was lost. But you can reclaim your own potential. Don’t let guilt paralyse you any longer. Ask G-d to forgive you. Then turn your guilt around, and use it as a springboard for positive action. Make what was a negative chapter in your life into the introduction to the next chapter, a chapter focused on love and life.

Why do we eat pomegranates on Rosh Hashana? I’ve seen it explained that “we should be full of mitzvos and good deeds like the pomegranate is full of seeds.” But there are other fruits that are full of seeds. Couldn’t we eat something a little tastier than a pomegranate?

Many people tell me that they are not involved with Judaism because they don’t want to be a hypocrite. Why come to shule for Rosh Hashana if I don’t go the rest of the year? How can I fast on Yom, Kippur if I don’t keep Shabbos? What’s the point of putting on Tefillin in the morning if I then eat a non-kosher breakfast? You can’t pick and choose, they say.
This is wrong. While it is true that we can’t pick and choose, nevertheless the non-observance of one mitzvah does not cancel the observance of another. Because mitzvos are like the seeds of a pomegranate.
Most fruits have a little cluster of seeds somewhere in their centre. But the pomegranate is full of seeds, and every one of those seeds is self-contained. Each seed is encrusted in its own little bulb of fruit. It has its own distinct place, separate from all the other seeds.
A mitzvah is the same. Every mitzvah is a universe unto itself, with its own spiritual power and its own unique blessing that it brings. Just because you don’t keep some mitzvos does not mean you shouldn’t keep others. Each mitzvah you do plugs you in to eternity, connects you with the Divine, and takes you higher. Every mitzvah is a unique opportunity for your soul to touch heaven. The mitzvos that you don’t do shouldn’t allow you to miss this opportunity.
This is why the Talmud says, “Even the most disconnected soul is full of mitzvos like a pomegranate.” A good deed has eternal worth, no matter who does it. So if you find yourself doing one mitzvah when you still don’t do others, you are not a hypocrite. You are a holy pomegranate.

I am just back from my big trip to Israel. I thought I’d never get there. I think it’s the first Jewish thing I’ve done since my bar mitzvah (which wasn’t so Jewish either).
But here’s the weird part. I went to the Wall in Jerusalem, and you know me, I’m the last person to have a “spiritual experience”. But as I approached the Wall I started to cry uncontrollably. I felt this strange magnetism towards the Wall, almost as if G-d was pulling me. Not bad for an agnostic, huh?
I wouldn’t tell this to anyone else, it’d be too embarrassing. But I think I felt G-d. What do you think?

Your secret is safe with me. I will not share this with anyone.

You have a powerful Jewish soul, and you caught a glimpse of its power at the Wall.

The Wall is the last remnant of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. While ransacking Jerusalem 2000 years ago, the Romans burnt the Temple, and knocked down its stone walls. But one wall refused to budge – the Western Wall. The sages predicted long ago that the Western Wall will never be destroyed. It represents a holiness that no foreign power can ever touch. They can destroy the Temple, but there is something that is beyond their reach – a divine presence that never leaves Jerusalem.

The Wall has been built over, dumped on, ignored, but never did it fall. Finally, in our times, it was rediscovered, and opened for all.

The Kabbalists teach that man is a microcosm. Whatever exists in the world, can be found in miniature form within ourselves. If there is a Wall that is so holy that it can never be destroyed, then within us must also be a spark of holiness that can never be lost. This is our spark of Jewishness, the essence of the Jewish soul. Our soul may be surrounded by foreign invaders – scepticism, ignorance, scars from negative Jewish experiences – but it nevertheless remains in tact. Nothing can extinguish the Jewish spark; it is always there waiting to be ignited.

Even an agnostic Jew who has been dislocated from his spiritual heritage for generations, at the deepest level of his being he is Jewish. Nothing can take that away. Eventually, if he allows it, that innate Jewishness will surface.

Everyone has a different catalyst that ignites this spark. In your case, the microcosm met the macrocosm. Your Jewish spark, the indestructible presence of G-d within you, was awakened at the Wall, the indestructible presence of G-d in the world. I guess it’s not surprising that many have had that experience.

Now it’s up to you. You have been given a gift. You have come face to face with your soul. These experiences don’t happen often. But once you have discovered the Holy Wall within yourself, you can start to rebuild your inner Temple around it, so that sense of holiness will never be lost again. It’s no secret, you can make a home for G-d in your heart and in your life

Rabbi, what is your wish for the New Year? What does a rabbi wish for? Do you want to become the Chief Rabbi or something like that?

No, I am happy not to be Chief Rabbi. I would like to continue doing what I do, but perhaps with a bit of a new spin.

People usually turn to a rabbi when they are having problems. In the year that went by I met many couples who are having relationship issues, I spoke to people who are losing their faith in G-d, and I faced confused souls who question whether their life has any meaning.

In the year to come I wish to meet many more people who are having relationship issues, losing their faith in G-d, and who question whether their life has meaning. But next year, it should be with a different twist. Here are the questions I dream to receive:

Relationship Issue I Wish to Hear:

“Rabbi, we’ve been married for three years, and what can I say, we are really happy. We communicate well, have a good understanding of each other and a deep respect. Like anyone, we have the odd disagreement, and sometimes we say things in the heat of the moment that we shouldn’t, but we deal with it maturely, recognise where we went wrong and in the end it brings us closer. Rabbi, we have no major problem, we are just hear to ask you: Is there any way we can make our marriage even better? Can we improve on what we have?”

Crisis in Faith I Wish to Hear:

“Rabbi, I am struggling to believe that G-d really exists. I used to have faith, but my experiences of late have made me doubt that there is a fair G-d. I just landed a dream job with a great company, I am healthy, I met a wonderful girl, my phone bill went down this month, and my football team won the grand final. Rabbi, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE ALL THIS? If there is a G-d, why did He choose me of all people to shower with so much good?”

Meaning of Life Question I Wish to Hear:

“Rabbi, I feel that my life has no purpose. Ever since the Messiah arrived there are no more wars, terrorism has been defeated, poverty abolished, all sicknesses cured, lonely people have all found love, and the oppressed are now free. So what’s the point of life? What am I needed for? I used to be able to help people. Now there are no problems in the world, I have lost the meaning in my life. What should I do?”

I know this is all just a dream. At the moment the world seems far away from such a blissful state, where the biggest problem is that there are no problems. We still have a lot of work to do. So let’s do it. Where there is pain, let us all be healers. Where there is loneliness, let us be a friend. And let’s thank G-d for all the amazing good that He has blessed us with.

Maybe then we will ourselves create a Messianic world, together we will bring on the dawn of a new era, an end to all suffering and sorrow, when the only battle to fight is an inner battle, and there is no good and evil – just good and better.