#weekly thought

Torah teaches that Hebrew is the original language. The world was created with the Holy Tongue. When G-d said "Let there be light" He said it in Hebrew: "Yehi Ohr". Adam was given his name because he was made from the ground (Adama), and Eve (Chava) because she was the mother of all life (Chai). These word plays only work in Hebrew.

All other languages are translations of the original, their vocabularies a series of made up words. A cow is called a cow in English because we all agree to call it a cow. But it is called a Parah in Hebrew because it really is a Parah. The Hebrew word for things is their actual name.

There could be scholarly backing for the concept that it all started with Hebrew. Linguists have been able to trace words in multiple languages back to their Hebrew roots. For example, the Hebrew word Derech (way/road), can be found in Daroga (Russian), Derecho (Spanish), Durch (German) and Doro (Japanese), as well as our own English word, Direction. Some offer this as evidence that all roads lead to Hebrew.

But whatever the scholars may say, the Torah is our ultimate source. And the Torah teaches that Hebrew is G-d's language. This is why we still pray in Hebrew. We are using the very words that G-d used to create the world. The very words have power. Even if we don't understand what we are saying, our soul does. Hebrew is the natural language, the underlying vibration of the universe, the code that G-d spoke into creation.

Have you ever tried snapping out of a bad habit only to find yourself falling right back into it? I don’t think you should quit your bad habit entirely. That seems too much, and apparently hasn’t worked for you in the past. 

I suggest you quit just for one day. 

This would be manageable. I’m sure you can control yourself for a single day. Especially when you know that it isn’t forever. You can go back to your vice tomorrow. But today, just today, you are over it.

Then do the same thing again tomorrow. 

And the next day. 

This is an old hack to fool the Yetzer Harah - the evil urge inside us that pushes us to do the wrong thing. When you say that you are quitting forever, your evil urge fights back ferociously. But if you reassure it that you’ll be back to your devious ways tomorrow, and you’re just taking a day off, it doesn't feel threatened and leaves you be. 

After one vice-free day, you have reclaimed a tiny bit of control over your urges. Now you have your foot in the door. You are that little bit stronger, just enough to stretch it another day. And then another. And so on. Before you know it, that urge loses its hold on you. And it all started with just one clean day.  

This is the meaning of what we say in the Shema prayer: “These matters I command you today.” G-d only tells us to be good today. That’s it. He never asked us to be good forever. Forever is too daunting. A day is realistic. We can handle that. 

Conquer one day, and give yourself credit for doing it. Even if you fall again, don’t beat yourself up about it. You'll live to fight another day. 

This is one of the biggest secrets of life. Good doesn't always taste good. But not-good often looks and tastes good. 

It has to be this way. Imagine it was the other way around. If good always felt good, and bad just felt bad, who would do bad? Our challenge is to make the right choices in life. But for that we need a choice. 

There are two paths to choose from: the path of good and the path of no good. One path leads to true happiness, the other is a dead-end leading nowhere. And it isn’t so easy to tell which is which.  

G-d wanted to make it fair, so He let bad look good. The bad path has nothing to offer, so G-d gave it good PR. The wrong path is so much more tempting. Unhealthy food is the yummiest. And doing the wrong thing seems so much fun.

But that’s just looks. The good path is where real enjoyment lies. The choice is between superficial good or real good. As our sages wisely said: “Don’t look at the packaging, look at what's in it.” Don’t fall for the glitter, dig for real gold. Don’t do what feels good, do what is good. You’ll see, there’s nothing yummier. 

There is a story told by the great chassidic teachers, and it goes like this. 

There was once a simple villager who won the lottery. In the olden days, this meant literally winning a pot of gold. So with excitement and anticipation, he set out on foot for a three day journey to the big city to collect his winnings.  

When he came to the lottery office and saw his prize, he realized he could not possibly carry such a heavy pot of gold home. So with some of his new wealth he hired a wagon driver with a strong horse to carry him and his pot back to the village.

The journey took several hours. Along the way they stopped off at the side of the road for a little rest. The wagon driver parked the wagon in what seemed to be a safe spot and the villager had a little nap under a tree.  

Refreshed and ready to go, they jumped back onto the wagon to continue the journey. But after a short while the wagon driver stopped and said, "I think your pot of gold has been stolen." The villager quickly went to check. To his great distress he saw that indeed the pot was gone.

The villager immediately turned suspiciously to the wagon driver and asked him accusingly, "How did you know that the pot was stolen without even looking into the back of the wagon?"

The wagon driver answered, "It was obvious. When we were traveling earlier, before we stopped for a break, the horse was struggling under the heavy load. But since we resumed our journey the horse is galloping so easily and effortlessly, I could tell that he's not pulling a heavy weight any more. Only an empty load is easy to carry. When you have a pot of gold in your wagon, it takes effort to carry it."

The same applies to us. When life seems tough, when we need to put in effort and struggle to keep on moving, it means that we are carrying a treasure on our back. The smooth and easy times may be pleasant, but they are not as rewarding. The riches of life come from hard work.

So keep pulling the load. And be thankful for it. Only a horse is happy with an empty wagon. A life of Torah and Mitzvot is a full life, like carrying a pot of gold. 

Mazel tov!

If Jews believe in Divine Providence (fate), why do we always use the word mazel which means luck? Isn't that a contradiction of belief?

Actually, mazel is usually mistranslated as luck. The correct meaning of mazel is "a drip from above". Which is probably why people just translate it as luck. It doesn’t quite sound right to say, "Wishing you a good drip from above on the occasion of your bar mitzvah".

Your mazel is your pipeline from heaven. In heaven there is abundant blessing waiting to come down to us. But as those blessings descend to earth, they can become corrupted. The freshest water can be polluted if the pipes are dirty.

Good mazel means the flow from above reaches us unadulterated, in the form of positive and happy experiences. If the flow is blocked or contaminated, that’s bad mazel, and things don't come out as blessings. When we say Mazel tov on a special occasion, we are wishing that the blessings should flow freely from above. 

There are ways to unblock your pipes. Do more mitzvahs. Give more charity. Be kind and generous and forgiving. That will keep the pipes clear and the flow smooth. But being stingy and mean, vindictive and petty can clog up the passages and spoil the waters.

Luck is random and anonymous. Mazel is targeted and personal. It's not just dripping down from nowhere. It is from G-d. He wants to give you blessings. Open your pipes to receive them.

Wishing you lots of mazel,

Mendel (Menachem) Bluming

The choice of words the Torah employs to describe the role of the spouse — "a helper against him" — seems contradictory. If a wife is supposed to serve as a helper to her husband, she is obviously not poised "against him?"

Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi explains that the woman becomes a "helper" for her husband by sometimes being against him. For a husband to become the maximum he can be, he must profess the courage to welcome the ideas and feelings of his spouse which may be "against" his own.

Some men cannot tolerate their wives disagreeing with them, and conversely, some women cannot handle another opinion. They grow angry and frustrated, exploding or imploding. What often transpires, as a result, is that the woman, or the man, in order to maintain a peaceful atmosphere in the home, remain silent. Or, to avoid confrontation, they just drift away from each other emotionally. Conversely, the arguments and fighting never cease.

The Torah is teaching us a different option. Each of us needs the help of our partner to be healed from our egos, insecurities, blind spots, and wounds. When a man and woman learn to genuinely embrace the otherness of his/her spouse, they can develop a true bond and reach their own deepest core.

This does not mean, of course, that it is a biblical injunction upon every woman and man to disagree with their spouse 100 percent of the time.  What it does mean, though, is that we must learn to respect and truly listen to the voice of our second half.

As a parent, you need to make many decisions that will impact your child's future. Deciding whether to make a Bris is one of them. Here are the things you need to know before deciding what to do: 

- A surgical circumcision is not a Bris. Apart from the missing blessings and prayers, the actual cut may be different. Which means one day when your son realizes that he didn't have a Bris, he may require a rather unpleasant procedure to get it fixed. A Bris is no big deal when you are a baby, but not quite as easy when you're older.

- A Mohel is not an amateur. Quite the opposite. An experienced mohel does them almost daily, and has performed hundreds, or possibly thousands, over the years. The mohel who did my sons’ brisses claims to have done over 50,000.

- Many Mohels are also medically qualified. Some are themselves surgeons, who will perform a Bris in their surgery rooms if you prefer. 

- The risks involved with a bris or medical circumcision procedure are minimal, but surgical circumcision could at times be riskier than a traditional Bris, as more complications can arise from giving a baby an anesthetic than from just a clean cut alone.

- The Bris is a tradition that stretches back almost four thousand years. It connects us and our child with all past generations of Jews, who gave their children a Bris under all circumstances. Your son will enter the covenant that started with the first Jew, Abraham, and continues to this very day. The spiritual power of a Bris cannot be matched by a surgery that is essentially cosmetic. 

You don't want your son turning to you years from now and asking, "Why didn't you give me a Bris with a Mohel? Now I have to go and get it done properly!" On the other hand, if you do it the right way now, he will never turn to you and say, "Why didn't you circumcise me in hospital? Now I have to go and get a local anesthetic to make up for it!"

Give your son a Bris, and you give him four thousand years of Jewish identity that will stay with him forever. Don't leave it for him to fix later. This is one of those things you only want to do once.