The Shortest Day of the Year

You may recall that several months ago I wrote a column called "Who Will Say Kaddish for Us" (April 10, 2010), and in it, I asked that we take a look at ourselves and ask ourselves what it means to truly be happy with who we are and with what we have.

After a long summer, filled with many changes, and an even longer autumn, replete with much tragedy and loss, I find myself again asking that we take yet another look at ourselves. This time, however, I ask: Who will say Kaddish for them.

Having spent many an hour in and out of Skilled Nursing facilities and Hospice facilities as a visiting Rabbi, (the key word being "in and out"), (except for an extended period as a patient), I had only done so in my professional role and until this past July, when faced with my grandmother's admittance to a like facility. Sadly, I had never felt that I had a reason for spending more than the requisite half hour or so with the specific patient whom I had intended on visiting, nor did I believe that I had the time to visit others; and even then, I had never allowed myself to become involved with them beyond a quick hello, or to offer a brief Mishaberach (healing) prayer on my way to my next stop in a busy day.

This of course changed in late June when my grandmother was sent to a Skilled Nursing facility following a terrible automobile accident, and my days this past summer were spent almost in their entirety at the facility. There, I visited not only her, but her neighbors and new friends; patients both in and out of consciousness; their families and friends, and of course, deeply rooted new friendships formed with both residents and with the dedicated staff of medical professionals and administrators.

And then, one day in late August, my grandmother died.

Would her neighbors and friends be now again forgotten? What about others in other homes? Who will visit them??

Most of these folks have no family, or what family they do have, rarely visit. Which, then leads me to ask: Who will say Kaddish for them?

The famous sage Hillel was known to have said "If I am not for myself, then who will be for me; and if not now, when?"

Are our friends in these homes and facilities not us? Are they not our grandparents, our uncles and aunts?? Our brothers and sisters??? And, if they are us, as I believe them to be, we owe it to them to visit them while they are still with us; and, we owe it to them to say Kaddish for them once they have passed on to Olam haBa.

For these reasons, I have begun a program of Bikurei Holim; visitation to the sick that encompasses many of the Skilled Nursing facilities in the Los Angeles area. My goal is to reach out to our brothers and sisters in these facilities by providing Chaplaincy services while visiting each patient three times weekly, and Palliative Care Chaplaincy when necessary, even if it means being on-call daily and nightly.

Our program, Mobile Rabbinic Chaplaincy Services will kick off officially on January 1, 2011. Should you be interested in helping us achieve these goals, please visit our website.

At this time each year, the time of the secular holiday season, I find myself often wondering where the "holiday spirit" that seems to be present this month goes almost immediately after New Years Day. I find that even trips down major boulevards bring visions of decorations and light displays them themselves call for us to be kind and gentle to each other, yet, at the same time, this time of year almost always makes me wonder why these feelings of "good tidings" are only present during the period between Thanksgiving and New Years.

Wouldn't it be nice if everyone were just as nice the rest of the year? What might we be able to do to make it so?

Last week, while driving to Los Angeles along the 101 Freeway, sitting in heavy traffic, as is normal for any time of day, I looked to the sky. It was dark; grey; cloudy; cold. It appeared to be ready to open up and rain. In an instant, though, this all became irrelevant, as a large flock of birds flew in a southerly direction in perfect formation. At that very moment I was reminded of the perfection that continues to remain in the world. It occurred to me that no matter the weather; no matter the grim outlook of ongoing war and economic strife and sickness that is all around us, the world is, in fact, unfolding exactly as it should, and that the smile brought to my face by the flying birds can be brought to everyone, by us, by just thinking of those birds, and passing the smile along to the driver next to us on the freeway, or the person crossing the street, or whomever you happen to meet next.

Maybe if we remember those birds and remember to smile a little more, we can keep the feeling of December all year long. It is worth a try, at least, isn't it?

From rainy damp and chilly Southern California, where the sun always shines (in our hearts, if no place else), I wish you Ahavah, uVrachot, Love and Blessings for a wonderful week and Shabbat Shalom.

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

When push comes to shove, blood is not thicker than water; Money is.

My father, whom you have read about on numerous occasions; and whom I adored and loved more than any person, save for my wonderful children, taught me many things in our short forty-six years together.

All of which, so far, have turned out to be quite correct, with the exception of one glaring item, which, truth be told, is the one thing that should absolutely be correct, but sadly, these past few weeks I have learned otherwise.

"Blood is thicker than water", he would say. Relating of course to family bonds, loyalty and love; meaning that no matter what, in the end, blood, family loyalty and respect for that loyalty will triumph over anything and anyone who tries to break that bond of blood over water.

On Rosh haShana, of all days, I learned that this is not true, when the Mezzuzah that adorned the doorpost of my grandmother's home, in which I live, was stolen, and in it's place, a note was left by the thief, not only identifying himself by name, but admitting that he was the thief! Later in the day, he reached my by telephone (I initially answered as I saw the number and thought that the call was due to my mother being hospitalized) and told me to go get the note that he had left for me where the "F***ing 'Jew Thing' used to be on the door". He subsequently left me four voice mail messages threatening my life, using highly anti-Semitic rants if I did not leave my grandmother's house and move back to Arizona. He then showed up at my residence a few days later and pointed his fingers at me like a gun and reminded me through the window that he owns guns and knows how to use them.

The following day, I did what any normal person would do, and filed for protection with the Superior Court. I was granted a Temporary Restraining Order against this maniac, but lo-and-behold, he was somehow able to evade process of service.

What you may ask does this anti-Jewish piece of dirt have to do with blood being thicker than water? It so happens that he is married to my blood, and she, amazingly enough, condones his behaviour, and even smirked when played his voice mail messages, that, among other rants included his opinion that "Rabbis are just like Catholic Priests; they love to mutilate little boys by cutting off pieces of their penises." And that Rabbis have a "fake f***ing religion."

You see, it is all about the almighty dollar. And that makes me sad. This relative of mine once told me (following a thirteen year gap where the despicable husband interfered previously) that never again would she allow anyone or anything to come between us; that life was too short and that indeed, blood is thicker than water. If only that were true. The truth is, that her goal and that of her insane (born Jewish) Nazi husband is to sell the house in which I live, even though they have no right to it, legal or otherwise.

Her basis is to continue to accuse me of mistakes that I made thirty years ago. Who has not erred?

It is true that each of makes mistakes in our life. The goal is to remedy them, ask forgiveness from those whom we have hurt, atone for them to G-d and move on to better things and a better life. This is the basis for our wonderful faith. Absent this faith, what do we really have?

We would have a life absent joy. Absent the pure simcha of seeing our children go up to the Torah and read; absent the blessing of walking our children to the Chuppah (Wedding Canopy); absent the knowledge that our children have ascended in their lives and Jewish education and have become Jewish adults, we would have a life that is empty and void of happiness.

Should she continue on this path, my relative will never know this joy. For this, I am not angry. I am disappointed and I feel compassion and I feel pity. For the Joy of Torah is absent in her life, and the only G-d that she knows is green, with numbers on its corners and pictures of dead presidents on the front center panel. It is sad indeed.

May she awake someday soon and thank G-d for the day that she has been given; may she open her eyes to Torah and to the knowledge that all she was taught as a young girl is true and is good. May she walk away from the evil that surrounds her and encompasses her life. May she realize that blood is thicker than water. May she come home.

From Sunny Southern California and the Emek in the Maarav, I bid you Ahavah u'Vrachot; Love and Blessings...

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

Ashamnu. I have sinned.

During the month of Elul, and in fact, no less than one week ago, I committed the biggest sin that any one of us can commit.

I have done exactly the opposite of what we are supposed to do during Elul, and not only have I not failed to approach each of you whom I have hurt over the past year and ask forgiveness, I have also done the unconscionable by committing the act of Lashon haRa, publicly and hurting more than one person with one misplaced stone.

Last Shabbat, I misused the pulpit of one of my dearest friends; one of my most respected Colleagues, and in doing so, not only hurt him, but tarred the reputations of a few very respected Rabbis in our community.

This was not done with intentional malice, however, it was done nonetheless, and for these transgressions I must request Slicha; I must request forgiveness from not only them, but from all who were present when I mis-spoke, and from all who read my latest Column.

The matter at hand was the cessation of the Falafel Grill in Agoura Hills to remain a Kosher restaurant. Without verifying with every person involved, I took the word of one person, and due to incidents at another Kosher restaurant last month, allowed myself to become enraged at a situation absent of the complete facts.

The fact is that yes, Falafel Grill is no longer a Kosher establishment; and yes, it is no longer a Kosher establishment due to an increase in the cost of Kosher meat; and yes, the supervising authority was Chabad of Conejo.

The larger fact, however, is that Chabad of Conejo did not increase these costs; they did not force the restaurant to abandon Kashrut, and in fact, during the several years that they held Hashgacha and supervision, never once did they charge Falafel Grill for their supervision, nor did they force Falafel Grill to use one vendor over another. They simply dictated which Shchita was acceptable to their standard. This is not only their right, but their responsibility. Unfortunately, the costs of meeting this standard were too high for this restaurant and they were unable to sustain their business.

That said, I ask forgiveness from each of the Rabbis affiliated with Chabad of Conejo, and hope that you will hear my request for Slicha.

To my dear friend, whose Bima I desecrated with my words of Lashon haRa, I ask your forgiveness, though I may not deserve it. We have known each other over forty years, and in the last two and a half years, as we have become closer, I look to you as a mentor, a guide, a teacher and a Rav. To my dear friend, I beg Slicha.

To those of you that were present last week, and to those of you who read this Column, I ask of you Slicha. I mis-spoke and I mis-wrote. I am sorry and pray that you will all forgive me.

On a similar note and grander scale, on this last Shabbat of the year, I pray that each of you that I have hurt during the past year please forgive me and grant me atonement.

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Last Thursday morning, at 7:15, my grandmother lost her battle against injuries sustained in an automobile accident that is the reason I find myself in Los Angeles.

Over the course of the last two and a half months, I learned many things about her life that were very surprising to me. I learned that many of the facts about her childhood, were not as I had been told previously. I am not sure how I feel about this.

What I do know, though, is that I will miss my Nana as long as I live, and hope to wake up every day to see roses in her garden.

The following I delivered at her Funeral this past Sunday:

ברוך דין האמת. יהוה נתן ויהוה לקח. יהי שם יהוה מבורך.
G-d has given and G-d has taken away.

Over the past three months, I have had more than occasion to think about what I would say today; How I would eulogize my grandmother; How I could possibly put into words what her life meant to me; what, she meant to me.

Over the past three months, day after day, I would sit at her bedside and in the beginning, during the first days and weeks after the terrible accident that would eventually take her life, I would talk with her; hearing stories about which doctor she taught to bake peach cobbler, or how she would constantly have to sweep and clean the first home in which she and my grandfather and mother lived upon arriving in California in 1946.

During the last four or five weeks, the conversation was much less; and most days, not even existent. Most days, if I was able to even give her a small bag of popcorn it was an accomplishment for her to know that I was there.

And even so, even though I have had all this time; even though I easily write and deliver eulogy after eulogy, in this and in other similar chapels, today I am without words. Today, I draw a blank. For there are no words that I know to write; no words that I know to deliver that could even begin to describe my grandmother to you.

As history will tell, on Friday, September 19, 1919, just one week before Rosh haShana, 5680, G-d provided a gift to Raechel and Nathan Weizer of 1800 East 105th Street, Cleveland, Ohio, in the form of a baby girl, Claire.

She took on the role of big sister with love and devotion, caring first for Alfred, and then for baby sister, Gladys, throughout her teen years and up until the time that she met the love of her life, the brother of her best friend Rhea; rough and tough, Herman. The troublemaker; the motorcyclist; the fighter, who snuck around and boxed under the assumed Goyishe name, H. Anthony Shea. Jews – don’t fight.

My grandparents ran away sometime during 1938 and married. It was just before wartime, and eloping seemed the best idea. From what I was told, the family didn’t really buy the whole secretive life, and shortly thereafter, they were married under a Chuppah, and set out to find and live the American dream.

During the Summer of 1939, Maryl was born, and seven years later, the three Shapiros made their move west, to Los Angeles.

Work did not come easily in Los Angeles for a twenty-six year old named Shapiro, so, one day, after passing by the store in Santa Monica, my grandfather listed his name on a job application as “Sears”, and was immediately hired. The official name change was finalized not long after.

Times were especially tough financially and some of the best memories that my mother has, involved skipping along the Venice Boardwalk with her mother on their way to a rare movie, with only an apple for refreshment. Motherhood was difficult also in those days, made even more so by the presence of post war hardships.

At the ripe young age of 42, Claire became a “Nana”, and it was then that she took flight.
I believe that her life’s mission was to be a mother, grandmother, and great grandmother. Even, a Matriarch. Our own version of a real life Alexis Carrington.

Thanksgiving after Thanksgiving; dinner party after dinner party; family birthday celebration, or other reason to get together became her time to shine, and shine she did.
The China was always perfect, as were the Silver and Crystal; the meals were well planned out and delicious. These were her calling cards.

My Nana was not a “Bubbie”. Never. Rather, she was the stereotype of elegance. It shined, as did she.

I only know how to properly set a table, because she taught me.

But this, dear friends, this does not scratch even the surface of who she was.
As wonderful as a grandmother as she was, I cannot even begin to describe her as a Great Grandmother. She carried with her a wonderful and genuine interest in others; especially her family.

My sons, Zac and Dylan, were unable to be here today, as they just started school this past week in Arizona, but Zac sent the following for me to share with you today:
I sincerely apologize for my absence. To all who are here, especially my Grandma, I send only my deepest love.

What is a Matriarch? The first definition on Dictionary.com reads: "The female head of a family or tribal line". If there was an entry for my Nana, that is exactly what it would say. Nana was the oldest member of our wonderfully dysfunctional family, and she held that position with pride for many, many years.

I met Nana 18 years ago, when I was just a baby. Truth be told, my fondest memories of my early childhood consist of visits with her, as well as my grandparents. I always felt that Nana and I shared a very special bond, and over these 18 years, that bond grew. I had so many wonderful conversations with her; I feel like we would talk for days on end whenever she called. The best thing about her is that she practically made excuses just to call me.

A great example of this was just recently, back in May, when she called me to tell me she was watching baseball and that it made her think of me. Truth is that I know for a fact that sports were the absolute least of her interests, but as far as she was concerned, if it made me happy, it made her happy.

I'll never forget last summer when I was in California and she engaged with me an entire discussion about the NBA Finals. And I was even stunned to find out that she actually knew who some of the players were! Anytime I spent time in her home, she always had some sort of article or magazine clipping that she had saved specifically for me. I actually still have every single article in a footlocker at home.

I think everyone can agree that she always had wonderful stories. And my favorite stories were the chivalrous and insanely romantic tales of Papa, the love of her life and one of my all-time heroes. And I'd like to end on a high note with a wonderful story of my favorite Nana being defended by her man:

Papa and Nana were driving on a city street. Well, Papa being the fearless driver that he was, totally and completely cut off a guy who was trying to make a lane change. Well, the red light came and the man had somehow gotten next to the car that Papa was driving. He enticed Papa to roll down the window, and the man immediately began swearing like a sailor.

Language that should NOT be used in front of a woman. Well, Papa couldn't stand for this. So what did he do? He got out of the car. Papa, standing (insert height here; I can't remember how tall he was) and the Pottymouth Motorist, standing well over 6 feet tall, faced off. And with one punch from the muscular former boxer that was Papa, the opponent was knocked to the ground. Papa immediately demanded an apology to Nana, in which the man did very fearfully.

Nana, I know that you and Papa are finally back together. May you spent the rest of eternity reminiscing about great memories like this and making up for all the lost time. I know that you must be thrilled, and I know that it's gonna be one hell of a reunion when I find myself up there with you in 102 years.

Take care of yourself up there. I love you and always will hold a special place in my heart for my favorite matriarch.

I think that Zac said it best, I know that it's gonna be one hell of a reunion when I find myself up there with you when my time comes.

We began the service earlier with the words, יהוה נתן ויהוה לקח.
G-d has given and He has taken away, but let us not believe, even for one moment that He took her away from us. No. Let us know in our heart of hearts that He took the disease from her; that he took her to my grandfather, the love of her life, and that He took her to the Grace and perpetual paradise of Olam haBa, of the next world, after leaving her with us for just a week short of ninety-one years, according to the Hebrew Calendar.

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May G-d grant each of Peace in the coming year. May He inscribe and seal us all in the Book of Life and may he continue show us that only His Torah is and remains our light and redemption.

With Ahavah u'Vrachot, Love and Blessings, I wish you Shabbat Shalom and Shana Tovah.

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

Taking off the gloves; Playing with fire... for the sake of Elul...

In the last edition of this Column, you may recall that we spoke of a "Community" Kashrut company, who, while calling themselves "Orthodox" or "Frum", or whatever term they wish to use to describe their sacred and extreme high level of observance, was caught with their proverbial hand in the cookie jar, when in my presence, they were seen and heard extorting money from a small restaurant owner in the San Fernando Valley, before the Community (a code word for their real name) would let them reopen.

Incensed, I wrote about the incident in this Column and was almost immediately besieged by e-mails from readers; almost all of them positive in that it was about time that someone supported the "little guy"; some offering help in "getting the big guys"; and one e-mail, from a dear friend and Colleague warning me against "playing with fire", and one, from a reader in Chicago that accused me, angrily, of sticking my nose into other people's business.

Playing with fire? Are we not talking about Rabbis? With long black coats, disheveled beards, big hats and Tzitit hanging from their pants? They would hurt someone physically?? RIGHT BEFORE THE MONTH OF ELUL???

Friends: Is it not our job as Rabbis, Cantors, Educators and administrators to teach, inspire and try, however we must, to make living a Jewish life easier for those who seek to rejoin our Communities? Is it not the job of all of us to remember that Talmud teaches us that Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh be Zeh? That ALL Jews are responsible each of us for one another? It is our job; it is our duty; it is our lot; period. Failing to believe this; failing to act accordingly and failing to take this responsibility seriously is simply, not very Jewish.

This week, Chaverai, on Rosh Chodesh Elul, on the day that we are supposed to be beginning our Slichot, our asking of others to forgive our behaviour from the past year; I learned that the Kashrut authority in Agoura Hills has caused the Falafel Grill on Kanan Road to abandon their distinction as a Glatt Kosher restaurant. Due to an almost three fold increase in the cost of Kosher meat from the only supplier that the Conejo Chabad will accept as Kosher, as well as significant increases in the costs of their supplies across the board, we, as a community, have lost another Kosher business.

Is it maybe not time to take off the gloves? Is it not time to maybe play with a little fire? Is it not time, my friends, to take off the gloves and fight for what is right? Is it not time for US to take control and follow the most simplest of all Mitzvot - veAhavta et Reecha kaMocha - and you shall love your neighbor as you do yourself. And, is it not time for us to take control and protect our brothers and sisters who are being wronged, not just in our own community, but by our own PEOPLE?

I suggest that we take back our playground. I suggest this by visiting Kosher restaurants and supporting them, at the same time making it clearly known to the restaurant owner(s) that you support them for providing a place for us to dine, but that you are not in support of the Mafia-Like thugs who pressure them.

I suggest that you forward this week's edition of Normal is Overrated to your e-mail contact list; I suggest that you leave a comment here for all to see pledging your support of our community; and I suggest that we all contact Kehilla Kosher in Los Angeles and voice our opinions on their business practices. And, when doing so, I suggest that we let them know that we forgive their sins and their transgressions in how they treat their clients, in that it is the month of Elul, after all. Just because they act with complete disregard for Yiddishkeit, does not mean that we will.

Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh be Zeh. It is our job; It is our responsibility and it is our duty.

Shavuah Tov, Wishing you a great week from Sunny Southern California. As always, I send Ahavah u'Vrachot, Love and Blessings...

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

When a "Community" hurts "THE" Community

Dear Friends:

Over the course of the many months that I have written this Column, I have had occasion to write about happy and sad times; I have had opportunities to introduce you to new artists and community events; and even have taken you into parts of my life and shared them with you.

None of these, however, even begins to compare with the sadness and shock of an event that I witnessed this past week, when a Jewish company took such advantage of another Jew, that the ugliness of their practices bodes us to not only pay attention, but to take action, before it is too late.

This "Community" company, (whom I may not name directly, under threat of reprisal from them), labels itself as amongst the most Observant of the most Observant; a company that in fact places itself at the highest level of Holiness by judging who is Kosher and who is not; and providing Hashgacha, on site inspectors who supervise a restaurant's activities.

Rather than opine at the moment, please permit me to simply tell you what happened this past week, and how it transpired before my very eyes and ears:

I went into a known Kosher restaurant in the Los Angeles area around 2:30pm one day this past week. I approached the counter, looked at the menu on the wall and ordered the "Lunch Special" which consisted of a hamburger, fries and a fountain drink. I was told by the counter girl that she could not prepare that for me as the "Rabbi was blessing the place". She looked over to three men sitting at a table and I approached, introduced myself and made it known that I have eaten there before; that I know it to be Kosher; and that I was accepting of the fact that a "Re-Hechshering" was in progress, but that I trusted the owner to not sell me non Kosher food, and asked that they please prepare the hamburger for me.

When I exited the restroom, I was again told that they could not prepare this order, but that I could have some Shawarma from earlier in the day, before the procedure had begun. Not wishing to find a different restaurant, I ordered the Shawarma and sat down to eat.

While seated, I heard the three men talking. The restaurant owner was pleading with the other two men, one American and one Israeli, to allow him to open and sell food. The two men say there and listened, but offered no solution. Two or three minutes later, the American said "I understand that you are upset. Let's do this, if you agree to buy the pans now, you could be open in no time. In fact, you could be open right now if you would just buy the pans."

My friends, I thought that Tony Soprano was sitting at that table. I felt as if I was in a scene from a Coppola movie, or that Ray Liotta was going to jump out of the back with a sawed-off and save the day. Did I hear right? Was the owner of this small Falafel stand being extorted?? And, if so, could this possibly be done in the name of Torah??? NO WAY, I told myself, and then, I felt compelled to ask these guys, and ask I did.

"Why are you keeping this man's restaurant closed?" "Because he is not yet Kosher", I was told. "Why is he not yet Kosher?", I asked, "He has been Glatt Kosher for YEARS", I continued. Their answer blew me away. According to this man, Larry Somebody, the restaurant was not Kosher enough, and the pans in question (drip pans used UNDER the Shawarma Rotisseries, NOT for food that would be eaten) might have come in contact with something bad, I was told, and therefore, the restaurant was not Kosher until he said that it was Kosher.

Welcome to Extortion 101.

I returned the following day and the owner thanked me for trying to help him. The Israeli man was back and sitting at the same table, while playing with his iPhone and getting up occasionally to make a plate of food (which, no he did not pay for). This "on site inspector", by the way, earns $15 per hour, paid by the restaurant, which is in addition to the $675 per quarter that the restaurant pays the "Community" for their super supervision.

I asked the owner what had transpired. Why did he feel compelled to change Kashrut companies and was told by him that he had been approached and advised that were he to not change to this "Community", "The Ashkenazim would not patronize his store", thus, causing him financial loss.

Those are the facts. That is what I saw and what I heard. I called this "Larry" person on Wednesday morning, and informed him that I was going to write about this incident in my Column, and was warned that should I publish this piece, I could be hurting my new friend the restaurant owner. Now that this has published, let's see what happens.

My friends, we all know that we live in a time when we cannot afford to fight each other. We are constantly and consistently being threatened by both Arab States and renewed World Anti-Semitism. We are facing possible passing of a maniacal new law in Israel that could affect the legal conversions of thousands of Jews, and we are living in an ages where the Presidential Administration, for the first time in history, is clearly Anti-Israel and Pro-Palestinian (read: Terrorist).

We are facing the largest number of Jews who are non-affiliated in history, and every day, we hear of yet another Shul closing its doors.

These are the times that we must be united. This is not the time that we can sit back and watch the world go by. This is the time that we must stand strong, together, and take action to prevent these situations. I ask and urge you to speak with the restaurants owner(s) the next time that you dine in a Kosher restaurant. I urge you to ask who supervises them, and I implore you to ask them if they have been treated in such a way and to pay attention to their answers. I urge you to speak with your friends and neighbors; your Rabbis and teachers. I ask that you please forward this Column to everyone that you know and that you make this serious issue known throughout your Community. Maybe it can be a start to ending this corrupt and horrible behaviour.

As a footnote, I can tell you that in looking at the Community's website this evening, I noticed that several pages (listing which restaurants which they supervise, for instance), have been removed, and that in the past few days, much of their website is no longer functional. Maybe this is a good thing.

I thank you for listening. I thank you for reading and above all, I thank you for helping us all bond together to prevent this crime from continuing to plague our brethren.

With Ahavah u'Vrachot, Love and Blessings from the Left Coast and Sunny Southern California, I bid you Shavuah Tov; a good week. May magical good wishes find you as always.

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

For Brandon (z"l)

At Two O'clock in the afternoon of July 18, 1991, I joined a club.  It is a club that boasts a membership that unfortunately grows daily, and it is a club in which not one member has ever requested entry; most of us, in fact, try for as long as we can to deny our affiliation.

We do so at times by living as if all is well; and we do so at times by conveniently forgetting that precise minute when we entered, never to be permitted exit.

At Two O'clock in the afternoon of that dreadful day, I held the lifeless body of my beautiful little son in my arms and kissed his face; knowing that the next time I would see him would be at the Cemetery on Tisha b'Av, when we would lay his young body to rest.

I had joined the worst club imaginable:  The club of parents who bury their children.

His face was cold, and his lips were blue.  His Neshama, his Soul, had left his tiny body never to return in this World.  I was sad and I was angry.  WHY?  WHY would a Loving G-d that I knew to be a Loving G-d take the tiniest of his children, even before my Brandon had a chance to make his impact?

For seventeen years, as I placed phylacteries on my left arm every morning, and read Morning prayers I asked G-d why.  And for seventeen years, I had no answer.  My answer appeared two years, six months and seven days ago when I eulogised my father at a Cemetery not fifteen miles from where my Brandon is buried.

For those of you who remember my dad, I have no real need to remind you who he was.  For those of you who never had the absolute blessing of having known him,  I will tell you that he was a man who was genuinely loved by every single person whose life he touched, and that he touched every person whom he had ever met.  My father was, in the simplest of terms, a Tzadik.  A righteous man; a man who knew who he was, and a man who was so in love with his grandchildren that his every thought and his every smile were both brought to him by them, or dedicated to them.

That being said, how could G-d not  have a beautiful grandson waiting his arrival into Gan Eden, the paradise that is the Olam, haBa, the World to come.  Enter my Brandon.  My beautiful boy was taken to be there for his Grandfather's arrival.  Who better to greet my dad in Heaven, but his Grandson whom he had not had the time to know or grow close to, as G-d's plan was different.  I no longer ask why.

On Shabbat, somewhere between the Kiddush and Motzi, we parents place our hands on the heads of our children and offer our Blessing.  I pardon your indulgence for, but a moment as I ask that you stand with me as I send this Blessing to my beautiful boy on the nineteenth anniversary of his passing:

Brandon, I know now that G-d has made you as Ephraim and Menashe; He has Blessed you and He has kept you; He has shined his countenance upon you and been gracious onto you; and above all, G-d has kept you with Him and has brought you Peace.

We do not always know the reasons behind the magnificent works of haShem.  It is at times difficult to not know and to not understand.  It can be frustrating and at times even maddening.  But, for those times that we do understand, Oh, for  those times, the world, even in its heightened levels of craziness becomes a truly enlightening and beautiful place.

From the Sunny Left Coast, I send Ahavah u'Vrachot, Love and Blessings.

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

Why Must we Tolerate?

On my way to California a couple weeks ago, my very wise eighteen year old had a very interesting and enlightening thought.  He asked me, "What is Tolerance?  Why must we have to tolerate anyone?"

I thought about his question, and listened to him as he explained his reasoning:  If we were all created in the image of G-d (Genesis 1:27), then, we are truly all the same, regardless of our skin colour, belief system or sexual orientation or preference, right?  Or are we?

If I am of the belief that we are all created in G-d's image, I must, by definition, believe that we are all the same, and be this the case, we must be accepting of others, not "tolerant".  

BARUCH haSHEM, THANK G-D, we are all the same now and no longer must we be "politically correct" and "tolerant".  Would this not be a truly wonderful world, if this were a true statement.

The problem, my friends, is that we really are all the same, or made the same, but some of us have slightly different views on things.  Not necessarily the colour of car that we prefer, or our taste in foods, but matters of somewhat greater importance, like for instance, our cousins in places like Syria and Iran who live their lives to end ours; Gazans who enjoy hiding behind young children while shooting missiles at our children; Youths with shaved heads in Europe who continue to paint Swastikas on buildings and Government officials who are more interested in the Human Rights of admitted Terrorists and where Jews build housing for Jews, than the deaths of hundred of thousands in Africa, Asia and other third world locales.

Must we be tolerant of these people, or is it enough and more correct to be accepting?  To be "tolerant", according to dictionary sources is: the ability to accept something while disapproving of it In social, cultural and religious contexts.  Does this not mean that we deem ourselves right and they are wrong?

Are we not better off being "accepting" (willingly or readily accepting or receiving; receptive)?  I believe that we should be accepting.  In fact, I completely accept the fact that the Arab World wishes to push us into the sea and destroy us.  I also completely accept that we must protect ourselves, and with G-d and Torah, we will be able to overcome their intentions; I completely accept that the United States, and the State of Arizona in particular has a massive border control problem; and I completely accept that the current Federal Administration is the first to be blatantly anti-Israel and anti-Semitic, yet I am also fully accepting of the fact that Israel does not need the United States nearly as much as the United States needs Israel.

I am also totally accepting of the reality that while we each have our own ability to choose, I believe that G-d wants, but one thing from us, and that is to be good people; to love our fellow person as we do ourselves (maybe even more than we do ourselves), and to love Him with all of our heart, soul and strength; and that it is up to us to accept G-d for who He is to each of us individually, and to not simply "tolerate" people whose beliefs are different than ours.

It is also incumbent on us to accept ourselves for who we are.  Don't ask, don't tell?  Forget it!  Be YOU.  I'll be me and your neighbour down the block well be her.  Accept yourself as yourself.  Be proud of yourself; your accomplishments as well as your dreams.  There are no failures, just a bunch of tries that have not yet been successful.  And should you desire to become a better you, ask any Rabbi what the Torah says.  I'm certain that he will look it up for you.

From the Left Coast and Sunny Southern California, I wish you Ahavah u'Vrachot, Love and Blessings...

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

We met at Sinai.

We met at Sinai

On the morning of the third day there were peals of thunder and lightning, and a heavy cloud over the mountain, and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled. But Moses led the people out of the camp to meet G-d, and they stationed themselves at the foot of the mountain. Mount Sinai was all wrapped in smoke, for the L-RD came down upon it in fire. The smoke rose from it as though from a furnace, and the whole mountain trembled violently. The trumpet blast grew louder and louder, while Moses was speaking and G-d answering him with thunder. When the L-RD came down to the top of Mount Sinai, he summoned Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up to him. Exodus 19:16-19

It was there, that I asked why and it was there that I first knew the answer. It was there that we sat, you and I, and the rest, some 600,000 of us in all, and while staring at a rumbling mountain, it was there, that i first saw your smile. It was there that we first heard that we shall remember the day Shabbat and keep it Holy, though, we somehow knew this before; and it was there that we learned of the prohibition against murder, stealing and jealousy.

It was there, that we knew that we could begin to love G-d and not fear him, as, who other than a loving G-d would give us his Holy Torah to cherish, keep and love for all time?

At Sinai, you and I sat. We listened and we rejoyced. We became fearful when Moses did not return for day after day, but we waited, some of us more patiently, for him to return with the Laws; and he did.

Then G-d delivered all these commandments: "I, the L-RD, am your G-d, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, that place of slavery.

You shall not have other G-ds besides me. You shall not carve idols for yourselves in the shape of anything in the sky above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth;

You shall not bow down before them or worship them. For I, the L-RD, your G-d, am a jealous G-d, inflicting punishment for their fathers' wickedness on the children of those who hate me, down to the third and fourth generation; but bestowing mercy down to the thousandth generation, on the children of those who love me and keep my commandments.

"You shall not take the name of the L-RD, your G-d, in vain. For the L-RD will not leave unpunished him who takes his name in vain.

"Remember to keep Holy the Sabbath day. Six days you may labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the L-RD, your G-d. No work may be done then either by you, or your son or daughter, or your male or female slave, or your beast, or by the alien who lives with you. In six days the L-RD made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them; but on the seventh day he rested. That is why the L-RD has blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.

"Honor your father and your mother, that you may have a long life in the land which the L-RD, your G-d, is giving you.

"You shall not kill.

"You shall not commit adultery.

"You shall not steal.

"You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

"You shall not covet your neighbor's house.

You shall not covet your neighbor's wife, nor his male or female slave, nor his ox or ass, nor anything else that belongs to him." Exodus 20: 1-14

One by one these Commandments were read, out loud for us all to hear, but we had heard them before, had we not? We did know to honor our parents and to not murder, or steal, did we not? Were these Mitzvot not left in our hearts by G-d before we ever got to Sinai?

Did we not know decency and respect and truth even before receiving Torah?

Now that we have Torah, why have we stopped knowing? Why have we stopped caring? How do we start to care again? When do we look to ourselves for the answers to the questions that plague us all today? The answer, my friends is now.

It is now that we must begin again. To care and to know; to love and to respect; to believe and to have faith that the lessons planted so deeply within our hearts so very long ago, we placed there for a reason. Let us all treat each other with the love and caring with which we would enjoy being treated.

We met at Sinai, you and I. Amidst a thundering mountain, pillars of fire and smoke; and the sounds of Shofar calling us closer to our Creator. Yes. We met at Sinai, and I pray that one day we may all return in spirit to reclaim what G-d gave us that day.

From the Emek in the Midbar that we call Arizona, I wish for you Ahavah u'Vrachot, Love and Blessings for a Chag Sameach, a Happy and Enchanting Shavuot.

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

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Who is this Glenn Beck, and WHY DO WE CARE? - A retraction and correction

Shortly after publication of the below column last night, I received a barrage of e-mails, many of them unsubscribing to this Column due to my error in not better explaining myself, leaving readers with the idea that I somehow championed Glenn Beck and his notable anti-Semitic broadcasts. My intention was nothing of the sort, and my citation of Mr. Beck's latest broadcast was only to show that I believe that times such as ours call for a return to our own individual faith.

My intent was not to be perceived as bigoted, or anti anyone. Please re-read below and specifically take note of my reply to Mr. Cesca.

It often seems that whatever the Weekly portion of Torah that we read, something is going on around us that makes that week's Parasha that more meaningful. Such it was this week as well, with our reading of a combined section, Acharei Mot (After the Death of Aaron's sons) and Kedoshim (Holies).

The second sentence in Kedoshim speaks to me like almost no other in the Torah. With G-d speaking to Moshe (Moses), he says: Go tell all of the Tribes of the Children of Israel YOU ARE HOLY BECAUSE I AM HOLY. This, is a huge statement. This statement, above all others to me, gives us the desire to perform Mitzvot. Please allow me to digress.

I have a friend who enjoys discussing Halakha. As it is one of my favorite subjects to discuss, I too enjoy these conversations, but only to a certain point. I only find it fun when we are able to debate (we seldom agree) certain parts of Halakhic wisdom with answers that do not include the words "because haShem says so". My response is generally something like "WHERE DOES haSHEM SAY SO?" The answer is usually the conversation ender. More often than not, I am asked if I have ever studied Talmud, and without any Talmudic back-up or citation, we each sign off, or hang up the phone. Most often, I am thoroughly exhausted from the last five minutes of the conversation (read: debate) as I find it difficult to discuss a topic where one of the parties claims a fact that I know to be false, yet has no back up; i.e. G-d states in Talmud that it is against Halakha to use Facebook Instant Messenger on Shabbat. First, to my knowledge, G-d doesn't state anything in Talmud, and secondly, I am pretty sure that Facebook's Instant Messenger was not around in Talmudic times.

This past week, we got into a discussion over what it means to be "Observant". My friend stated over five times that to be an Observant Jew, one must fear G-d. One must perform Mitzvot because G-d is watching and will confront us with our transgressions, so we must follow the Mitzvot out of fear of being seen and fear of being caught.

I, however, see the performances in an entirely different light. I see the performance of Mitzvot as acts of love of G-d and for G-d's blessing and pleasure. Today's Parsha explains this to us in one sentence: YOU are holy, because I am holy. As we are created in the image of G-d, we must have G-d in us, and, if we have G-d in us, we, by definition, MUST be holy. To me, there is no better reason to perform Mitzvot.

The second most powerful Commandment, to me, is given to us sixteen verses later, when G-d commands us to love our fellow man, as we do ourselves. Midrash teaches that upon a request of a potential Convert to learn Torah while standing on one leg, The Sage Hillel replied with this verse,and told him that this verse is all of Torah. I ask then, does it matter who of us is Jewish or Christian or whatever? Is this Commandment not universal; and at the same time, does it not just make perfect sense?

Lately, I have heard the name Glenn Beck often. I have never taken the time to google Mr. Beck, or investigate his radio or television show; nor have I read any of his writings, and could not even begin to speak of him with any opinion whatsoever. Earlier this evening, however, I came across an article written by a gentleman by the name of Bob Cesca. I had never heard of Mr. Cesca, but my attention was grabbed by reading his headline attacking Glenn Beck. I must admit to having no knowledge of Beck either prior to reading Cesca's column, other than having heard Glenn Beck's name. After reading the column, and listening to a recording from Beck's show, and, with this week's Parasha so clearly in my mind, I felt compelled to write the following letter that I sent to Bob Cesca, with a copy sent to Beck:

Dear Mr. Cesca.

First, I must say that prior to ten minutes ago I had never heard of you, nor had I any idea who Glenn Beck is. That I may be burying my head in the sand and not paying attention to the various pundits, critics, broadcasters and so forth, might be an understatement, but it is not from lack of interest; it is more from lack of time to listen to so many varying opinions, yet, seemingly, nobody doing anything other than talking.

I must apologize for this, as you and Mr. Beck and whomever else is out there has a message and an opinion, and since the part of the Constitution that protects free speech is still in effect, I applaud your efforts, albeit it cautiously.

I learned of you from an article that I somehow came across entitled “Glenn Beck: the Televangelist Con Man Selling God's Plan for America”. As I frankly had never heard or seen anything that either you or Mr. Beck has said, I was curious, so I decided to read your column and listen to his tape as linked from your story.

I thank you for writing your column, and I thank you for posting the link to Mr. Beck’s broadcast.

I am not going to take sides, as the above mentioned Constitutional right continues to exist (for now), and personally, I am happy that we all have this right to speak our peace. You both are fortunate, very fortunate to have such large audiences to which you are able to proliferate.

I do, however, take issue with your attitude toward Mr. Beck’s opinions in general, and I must ask you with all due respect, do you have a personal knowledge of Mr. Beck’s relationship with G-d? I can certainly tell you that I do not, nor do I have personal knowledge of your relationship with Him; nor do you or Mr. Beck have personal knowledge of my relationship with G-d. That being said, I was surprised to see a man of your integrity call another names in a manner that is both highly prejudicial, and usurps his rights under not just the Constitution, but rights given to us by G-d.

Sir, I do not know your religious background, nor will I ever attempt to convince you that any one way to pray is better than another, but I will go so far as to ask you if you believe that it is acceptable to treat another or speak of another in a way which would be hateful to you?

I believe, as do you, as does Mr. Beck, as I would hope does most of the world, that we are living in very difficult times. As a Rabbi, I would agree with Mr. Beck that in times like these, seeking our individual faith to help us to guide ourselves is most beneficial. Whether Mr. Beck was spoken to by G-d directly or not, I have no way of knowing, nor does anyone. Whether or not I agree with his political opinion(s) is of no importance.

I have now heard back from Mr. Cesca. He wrote as follows:

Hello Rabbi Abrams,

I appreciate your thoughtful email. A couple of thoughts in response.

First, the Constitution only protects "freedom of speech" with regards to government lawmaking. In other words, the first amendment protects speech from government encroachment. As a citizen, I'm well within the permission of the founding documents to take issue with a commentator -- and even to call for him or her to be removed from the airwaves (though that's not what I'm suggesting for Mr. Beck).

Secondly, I am not questioning Mr. Beck's religion (Mormonism) or his right to practice it. In fact, I'm suggesting that by injecting religion into government, government will be more capable of interfering with religion. Hence, the purpose of separating church and state.

Thanks again, Rabbi.

Bob

I will reply now in this public forum:

After doing much more research into Mr. Beck, I can honestly say, Bob, that you appear to have been quite kind and generous with your words toward him. I have not met him, and since a mere twenty-four hours ago, I literally had no idea what the man stood for, or stands for, I was errant in my judgment to put myself in any position to defend him. For this I apologize.

My question now turns to ask again, Who is this Glenn Beck, and WHY DO WE CARE?

If you were to surf to his web page, you would find that Mr. Beck is a Talking Head on, I believe both radio and Cable television that seems to find fault with about anyone and everyone who is not, well, Glenn Beck. He seems to use these air waves to spew hatred and bigotry with Anti-American and Anti-Jewish rhetoric, and via PayPal, he appears to gain monetarily on a daily if not hourly basis.

Why do we care? We must care. For to be as I have been, with my head in the sand is at least as dangerous as Mr. Beck is to not just our society, but to the world.

We are holy, because G-d is holy. We do the right thing because G-d would want us to do the right thing. Last night, in agreeing with Glenn Beck, even if just barely and on the surface, I did not do the right thing. I believe that I am now.

I remind you that today is day 1,401 since the capture of our Brother, Gilad ben Noam v'Aviva Shalit by Terrorists in Gaza. Please remember him in your prayers.

In addition, we continue to pray for my Colleague and friend, Rabbi Bramly during this very difficult time. May G-d continue to bring him and his family strength blessings.

From the Emek in the Midbar that we call Arizona, I wish you Ahavah u'Vrachot, Love and Blessings...

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

Remembering and Celebrating - 62 Years

At precisely midnight last night in Phoenix, the clock struck 10am in Israel and a loud siren sounded for two minutes. Traffic stopped. Workers stopped and pedestrians stopped. Everyone and everything stopped. And remembered. The Country stopped to remember the thousands who have given their lives, so that we may live ours.

At midnight last night in Phoenix, Arizona, I listened to "Reshet Gimel", the all Israeli Music radio station from Jerusalem, as names of fallen heroes were read, one at a time, along with their rank, home town and age. As surviving fathers called in to the radio station, and dedicated their son or daughter's favorite song to their blessed memories, I felt at once proud to be a Jew; to be a Zionist; a Rabbi and teacher of Judaics and of Israel and a future Oleh, but at the same time, I felt guilty to be standing alone next to my bed in Arizona, instead of standing with our brothers and sisters in stopped traffic in Nahariya or Eilat.

I felt the pain of those fathers who had called the radio station, and the mothers who would never again greet their children on Friday evening; and I felt the pain of my friend, my brother, Ron Kehrman, who wrote in today's YNet section of Israel's Yedioth Acharonoth of his beloved Tal, who was murdered by terrorists 2,602 days ago; and I felt the pain of Noam and Aviva Shalit, who have been praying for the safe return of their son, Gilad for 1,395 days since his capture.

We remember the friends that we lost, and we remember the brothers and sisters that we never met. We remember the victims of the Beach Road attack, and our athletes in Munich; Mike's Place and the Country Club and the Passover Seder in Haifa. We remember our fathers and uncles and cousins who fought for our independence in 1948 and we remember the heroes that valiantly served in Gaza just a year ago. We remember Astronaut Ilan Ramon who perished on the Space Shuttle Columbia, and we remember Yoni Netanyahu who bravely led his men into Entebbe Airport in Uganda on July 4, 1976 to save Jews hijacked on an Air France flight to Paris.

And as I stood and silently said Kaddish, quietly asking G-d for the strength to continue, while magnifying His name, I prayed that this, please G-d, be the last year that we add names to the list of fallen brothers and sisters. And after shedding more than a few tears, I remembered that in less than twenty-four hours, we will be celebrating Yom haAtzmaut, Israel's 62nd birthday. A birthday made possible partly by the heroism of those whom we had just remembered, and whose lives must be avenged; not necessarily by bloodshed, but by our mere survival, which depends, solely on us.

Our survival means Israel's survival . They are synonymous. The survival of our State is absolute in like to survival of our people. Period. And in order for our State to survive, and in turn for our people to survive, we must, without question, see the following take place:

We must see an increase in our population within Israel. This means Aliyah. This means packing up our toys and going home. This means, if we are serious about saving our State, if we meant it when we said "Next year in Jerusalem" just three weeks ago at the end of our Seder meals, then, the time is now. Not next week, not next month, not next year. The time is now to go to the Nefesh b'Nefesh website and start the process. It is time to go home.

We must have Israeli leadership that believes in (1) a Jewish Israel; (2) a One State Solution with those who call themselves Palestinians, by either disarming them and their acceptance of Israel's right to exist as a Jewish State, or face immediate deportation from Israel and her territories; and (3) a Leader who will not be bullied by foreign nations dictating our rights as a sovereign State.

We must see a change in the way that we treat each other. We must eliminate these labels that do nothing, but divide us as a people. We are Jews. Does it matter if we are Orthodox Jews or Reform Jews or Martian Jews? Do we honestly think that G-d cares? We have 613 Mitzvot to perform (less Mitzvot specifically regarding the Beit Mikdash [Temple and Sacrifices]). Let's do our best. It would help, however, if we at least would remember to try and like each other, and treat each other in a manner that would not be hateful to ourselves, were we treated alike.

We must remember that this world was created by G-d. We must treat it as such. What do you think these earthquakes and tsunamis and volcanoes are all about? G-d is talking to us. Shouldn't we listen?

When the sun goes down tonight, the date will change to 5 Iyar. Sixty two years ago, on 5 Iyar, at the Tel Aviv Museum, David Ben Gurion and others gathered to proclaim the formation of the Jewish State, The State of Israel.

Through seven wars and with the grace of G-d, we have survived.

Our little Country has given the world technology that we use every day, including Instant Messenger software, Cell Phone technologies and Texting capabilities. Israel has given the world 9 Nobel Laureates; and has more companies listed on NASDAQ than any other Country, save for the United States. I could go on and on.

Instead, I'll ask you to go out today, and find a good Falafel. If you cannot find one where you are, go online and find the Nefesh b'Nefesh website (http://www.nbn.org.il/) and make plans to go home.

From the Midbar that we call Arizona, Ahavah u'vrachot, Love and Blessings...

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

Who Will Say Kaddish for Us?

As much as I love the week of Passover, I think sometimes that I love the week after Passover more. I seem to reconnect with people that prior to the holiday, I had not seen in a while (usually since the High Holidays). They seem to be happier than in the fall; full of excitement for the arrival Spring and all that Spring and Summer offer in matters of renewal and relaxation, much of this, I believe to be due to the warmth of sunshine.

The one not so pleasant happening that comes the week after Passover, however, is the arrival of Yom haShoah. Holocaust Remembrance Day. A day that in it's name alone, brings us back to the reality that this abominable tragedy not only happened, but the realization that should we fail to remember our not so distant past; should we fail to stand up and shout "NEVER AGAIN", and mean it, we could once again be facing extinction. IF we forget. IF we don't stand up, and stand up now.

A theme was selected for remembrance this year. The theme, "Who will say Kaddish for me?" Who will recite the memorial prayers for me?

A website has been designed, http://www.remember-us.org/, where each of us, especially Bar and Bat Mitzvah students can make a small donation and receive the name of a child who perished under Hitler's thumb, and dedicate their studies to these children who were not able to complete their own studies due to the Holocaust.

One such Bat Mitzvah student, Simcha from Ohio has dedicated her studies and Bat Mitzvah to a girl named Sima Ring.. Simcha wears Sima's name in a locket and recites her prayers in Sima's name. I have never met her, but am proud of her nonetheless. It is my understanding that she has had a difficult time of it lately. Not only am I proud of Simcha, but I also know that her mother will never have to ask the question of, "Who will say Kaddish for me?". For me, Simcha in Ohio stands out above most Bar and Bat Mitzvah kids. She cares; she is not afraid to show it; and she is proud to be a member of our proud people. To Simcha and her family, even though I cannot be in Columbus on this coming Wednesday, when she will rise to the Torah as a Bat Mitzvah, I will raise a glass of grape juice in "LeChayim " to Simcha.

Who will say Kaddish for me? Who will say Kaddish for you? Who will say Kaddish for us?

My children will, I am certain. Hopefully your children will stand for you. Will their children stand for them?

This past week, I was asked if in my opinion, the economy would return to what it once was. I promise you that anyone believing that I am qualified to answer this question as an expert economist needs some serious inter-cranial examination, as do I were I to pretend to answer with economic expertise. What I did reply, however, was that in my opinion, as long as we continue to worry about it, and continue to worry about what we no longer have, rather than being happy and thankful for what we do have, the economy will remain in the exact position that it currently resides. As long as we care about what our neighbor has, or what he drives, or how much money he makes, we deserve to remain wanting. This may sound cruel and uncaring, but in reality, I feel it to be the most caring answer that I can give.

Pirkei Avot states that a "person is as happy as he makes up his mind to be". As soon as we can be happy with what we have, and grateful for what we have, we too will be rich.

For a moment, I must flash back to last week and bring you an update. Should you remember the man who sent me that nasty anti-Semitic e-mail a few weeks ago, he has sent me another in response to reading last week's column. This week he wrote:

Thank you for your consideration, Maybe you are right but, I got cheated so bad by this guy that it was difficult to deal with, I was being cheated big time and I have to say that made me sick at my stomach. I am sure all Jewish folks are not like that but this guy is horrible. Like some of our people.

Sir: You have just made Teshuvah. Doesn't it feel better?

On a side note, I remind you that today is day 1,384 of captivity for Gilad Shalit. Please join in praying for his speedy safe return from what was once Egypt.

While we pray for the return of Gilad to his parents, I ask you to please join in praying for my Colleague and friend Rabbi Bramly and his family, as well as the families of all involved in their own tragedies. May G-d be with them all and bring them strength to overcome these terrible times in their lives. May G-d soon return them to their lives and their children and to all things good.

On Tuesday of this coming week we remember the Six Million who were senselessly murdered by a man in the position of power. May we all not only remember, but realize that should we fail to shout NEVER AGAIN; should we continue to go through life with blinders on, following a Self-Appointed Pied Piper of Hamlin, we could be next.

From the Emek in the Midbar of Arizona, I wish you a Shavuah Tov. b'Ahavah u'Vrachot, with love and blessings, I remain...

Yours in Torah...

--Rabbi Alan Abrams

Is March Madness really about Basketball?

As the grass gets greener, and the days get longer, Northerners make plans to head back north, managers and coaches shore up their pitching staffs, regulars start playing seven innings and 40 year old veteran hangs 'em up for good while the twenty-one year old phenom from Waxahatchee Creek tries to navigate the press corps that he will hopefully face daily for the next ten years.  What Spring Training does, better than anything, is prepare us for Summer.  Warmer days, swimming pools, family picnics and the Fourth of July.  July 1st in Canada; le 14eme en France.  All in all, and wherever we live, these days all celebrate independence.  Freedom.

In our Jewish world, however, one day ranks even higher than Canada Day or the 4th of July. That day, this coming Tuesday, is the 15th day of the Jewish month of Nissan. We are commanded on this day to observe, recall, remember and finally to celebrate our Exodus from Egypt and our liberation from bondage and slavery fashioned by G-d’s strong hand and outstretched arm, and the actions of His chosen messenger, Moshe Rabeinu, Moses.

On Monday evening, around the world, we will gather with family and friends. We will listen intently as the youngest at the table recites the “four questions”, which is really one question, “Why is this night different from all other nights”, and four reasons why it is different. The leader will then guide his or her guests through the telling and retelling of the story of the Exodus, and then, after two of our 4 required cups of wine, we will eat a delicious meal, sing some songs, eat dessert and finally, at the end of the night, we will proclaim: Le Shana haBaa b’Yerushalayim, Next Year in Jerusalem.

My question today is: Do we really mean it?

I mean… If we mean it every year… I guess I am really asking: If we mean it; Next Year in Jerusalem; why are we still not in Jerusalem? Why do we remain in Arizona or New York, or Los Angeles, Montreal, Sydney or Paris?

Just yesterday, a friend and I were talking and we were wondering if the Province of British Columbia or the Dominion of Canada had to ask for or receive permission from the “Temporary Tenant” at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW to build the beautiful new buildings and neighborhoods in Vancouver that were introduced to us during their tremendous production of the Winter Games last month. If so, why did we not hear about it, and if not, why not? If Canada does not need permission from Mr. Osama, I mean Obama, why should Israel? We are sovereign nations. In fact, come to think of it, the world is full of sovereign nations that seem to be bossed around by this Country. Why is that?

This being the case, again, I ask: If we mean what we say, why are we still here?

You may recall that a few weeks ago, I recounted, quoted and showered British journalist Chris Roycroft-Davis and his piece called “WHY CAN'T THIS COUNTRY FOLLOW ISRAEL'S LEAD?” As is often the case, I received quite a bit of e-mail over the several days following publication of that Column, most positive, and one, from a Real Estate Developer in Hurst, Texas that I must share with you. Initially, I was going to share his name, address, phone number and every other way to reach him that he posted for all to see, but in reality, he just isn’t worth the bother. What he wrote, however, is. (Please note that he makes reference to a Jewish man in Los Angeles, whose name I have deleted and replaced with XXX).

From: Unnamed Reader in Hurst, Texas
Sent: Tuesday, March 02, 2010 9:06 AM
To: rabbiabrams@q.com
Subject: RE: A British Journalist's viewpoint...


I read your article with great interest. I support Israelis position and have always wanted Israel to pop them every time. But, I have to say I have dealt with several Jewish people in my business over the years and the experiences have been not good. Just this past year I settled a lawsuit with a XXXX XXXXX of L.A. I have never been so screwed. While this guy was screwing me he was praying several times a day. XXXXX would not say crap if his mouth was full of it but he would screw you out of everything you have and now regret it one bit. This may be the problem that causes the Jewish people to suffer so much… I have heard that the Jewish faith feel they can cheat everyone out of their possessions and not be sinning because it is just business and be forgiven the first of each year… I am not racist that is just a plain fact. I have had dealing with about 250 of them and I got took every time.

Is this “Public Opinion”? Are opinions like this reader’s popular to the point that the “Temporary Tenant” of Pennsylvania Avenue NW is more interested in where Israel builds Jewish housing than housing his own Citizenry?


If so, I must ask another question. An important question that each of us as Jews must take a moment to contemplate: If this “administration” is so concerned with Jewish housing in another country (Israel), what does he really feel about us taking up housing in this country? In short, I ask: Are we safe?

In Europe of the late 1920’s and 1930’s, we felt safe. Were we safe? Are we safe now?


At the end of the Seder, when we proclaim “Next Year in Jerusalem”, it is because we are commanded to return to Zion; to Jerusalem. Could the time be now? Could we do worse than Jerusalem? In the words of Sarah Palin: You betcha!

As March becomes April; the NCAA Basketball tournament heats up with new heroes born on late night television every weekend in an event called "March Madness", and I look at the activities of this past week and wonder if "March Madness" is really about the Basketball, or is the madness this March more about the rest of the world?

And, in this madness, where does Jerusalem sit? I believe that she sits waiting for us with open arms to golden walls. And, if you ask me further, I believe that G-d is ready once again to bring us from the bondage of “Galut”, of Diaspora, and to return us with a strong hand and outstretched arm to our freedom once again. To Eretz Zion, Yerushalayim.

When we sit with our families and friends next week and proclaim “Le Shana haBaa b’Yerushalayim”, let’s mean it. There is space enough for all of us. Whether Mr. Osama Obama gives us permission to build or not.

Hashata HaCha, This year we are here;  LeShana b'Araa DYisrael, May we all be in the Land of Zion.  Our land.  Jerusalem of Gold awaits.

From the Emek in the Midbar, I Send you my love and blessings; Ahavah u'Vrachot...

--Rabbi Alan Abrams