Pidyon

Shabbat (or "Shabbos" in Yiddish) is a precious gift given by Hashem to His chosen people. On shabbos, we taste Heaven here on Earth, a taste of the World to Come. Shabbos is the center of the Jewish week. We even count the days with regard to shabbos -- Sunday is called "The First Day to Shabbos", Wednesday "The Fourth Day to Shabbos."

As Jews we spend all week preparing for shabbos. If a particularly nice cut of meat is found on Tuesday, it is explicitly bought "lichvod shabbos" -- for the honor of shabbos. Perhaps an unusual bottle of wine is found on Wednesday, fresh fruits on Thursday. As the week progresses, we put aside the best of everything "lichvod shabbos." When shabbos comes, we will enjoy the fruits of all our labors.

Shabbos is not a mere day of rest nor a day off. It is a day to experience and enjoy the world as Hashem created it and gave it to us, a day when we cease our efforts to control the world around us and insead experience the world in a state of complete rest from creative work, desisting from seemingly minor and inconsequential acts as turning lights on and off.

Shabbos is a day when we bear witness to Hashem's presence in the world and to recall the many miracles He has performed for us in the past -- such as Creation and the Exodus from Egypt; it is a day when we make sure to recognize the daily miracles He continually manifests in the world around us.

Finally, shabbos is a day to enjoy family and friends, to indulge in the pleasure of praising Hashem in prayer, and to relish the sweetness study of Torah, another of His precious gifts to the Jewish people.

If you are Jewish and have never experienced shabbos, you are missing out on your own inheritance. Please contact me privately and I will make arrangements with a Torah observa nt family in your area to invite you to taste the World to Come.

Dear Rabbi Bendory,

I listened recently to your podcast on milk and meat – curious to see what The Kosher Kitchen was about. It occurs to me that this examination of particulars — whether the meat has been seasoned, whether it has been roasted, does it have cracks – could be carried almost to the level of quantum physics. I think I understand, inasmuch as I can, the value of tradition, and I appreciate that you are providing guidance to those who need it. But aren't these differing views of what is and is not allowed, the focus on minutiae, a distraction? I am reminded of the rulemakers of biblical times. I do not intend to offend or criticize – this is merely the observation of one with little knowledge but the perspective that come with knowing little.

Best regards,
Ploni Almoni

Shalom Mr. Almoni,

Indeed, one of the classic canards levelled against rabbinic Judaism is regarding the Torah's attention to what are perceived to be the "minutiae" of observance.

I buy my wife flowers every week for shabbos. She likes star gazer lilies, and the flowers at our wedding were star gazer lilies. So when I go to the flower shop, I specifically ask for star gazer lilies. Some times they don't have them, and they suggest regular lilies instead. If so, I go to the next flower shop and try there. Usually, with a little effort, I can find the star gazers.

So tell me, is that too much attention to minutiae? Or is it an expression of my love for my wife?

Our study of Torah is an attempt to understand G-d's Will and our observance of Halacha is an expression of our love for Hashem. When you love someone, you notice every detail.

Rabbi Dovid Bendory
19 Sivan 5766

It is a mitzvah d'oraisa¹ to pray daily, as it is written, "And you shall worship Hashem your G-d." This "worship" is prayer, as it is written, "and worship Him with all your heart." The obligation is that a person must pray every day. First he must praise Hashem, and then he asks for his own needs, and then he gives further praise and thanks to Hashem for all His goodness. Each must pray according to his koach.²

— Rambam, Hilchos Tefilla, 1:1-2

As a Torah Jew I praise Hashem throughout my day. Diligently I go to shul,³ make brachos,⁴ and daven.⁵ It can be both energizing and taxing, exhausting and inspiring. It can be emotional or empty. But it must always be.

When davening⁵ is inspiring I can't pray enough. I add all the extras: l'shem yichud,⁶ yehi ratzon,⁷ even my own prayers. There is always another pasuk⁸, a segulah⁹, a kabalistic incantation from the Arizal¹⁰. There is always something extra to pray for, to be thankful for.

Except for the times when there isn't. The times when I pray but don't know if Hashem is listening. I pray and am not transformed by the experience. I pray and, worst of all, I find myself alone or alone within the kahal.¹¹ Hashem has hidden His Face¹² and I cannot find Him. Empty words pour out only to remain empty. Brochos⁴ become a ritual mumbled before eating, the shmoneh esrei¹³ a dreamy stream of consciousness.

And then I get angry — angry that I have lost focus, angry that I'm not holding at the madreiga¹⁴ I thought I was, angry that Hashem has set such lofty standards for us, such difficult standards to hold to. He makes demands on my time and on my emotional energy, on my focus and concentration, on my neshoma.¹⁵ I try to use the anger as a source of inspiration, to let it drive kavana¹⁶ back into my tefilla.¹⁷

But ultimately I can't force myself to daven.⁵ Thanks must be genuine, requests real. Praise has to flow from within. It all comes back to praise, praise for Hashem. Regularity and praise; regular praise.

As a married man, I have a commitment to compliment my wife once a day. She needs to be complimented, though probably not quite so often. But I do it anyway because even if she doesn't need it, I do. Perhaps my compliments are tucked away somewhere for a later day, a day when I forget. I make no pretense of chiddush¹⁸ in my compliments. That, on a daily basis, would make my wife (or me) superhuman. I offer quite ordinary compliments, regular compliments. "Thank you for dinner, it was delicious." "I always like that skirt." "You look great."

The regularity of this once-daily praise has become an ingrained pattern for our relationship, a pattern that we can fall back on in more stressful times. These expressions of respect have become a part of us and our relationship; in the inevitable ups and downs of marriage, they are a part of what helps us find each other again.

There are days when it is difficult to find the place from where I can offer a compliment. But if G-d requires my praise three times daily, then my wife? All the more so! And so I center myself in the strength that develops out of the regularity of daily praise. Regular praise; ritualized praise.

And then I find myself focusing in the amidah¹³ again or closing my eyes to concentrate before making a brocha.⁴ I grant my wife spontaneous praise once daily; Hashem only asks that I follow the siddur.¹⁹

Indeed, all Hashem asks is that we use the siddur.¹⁹

And that we mean it.

Notes:

1. Mitzvah d'oraisa -- a Torah commandment.
2. Koach -- literally power. Here it refers to one's spiritual potential.
3. Shul -- yiddish for synagogue.
4. Brachos, brocha -- a blessing.
5. Daven, davening -- yiddish -- pray, praying, prayer.
6. L'shem yichud -- literally, "for the unification of Hashem's name." These are brief mystical statements of intent that are available to be said prior to performing a mitzvah. They are generally skipped by most non-chasidic Jews.
7. Yehi razton -- literally, "May it be Hashem's Will;" another from of short prayer, many of which are generally skipped.
8. Pasuk -- verse.
9. Segulah -- a prayer for protection.
10. Arizal -- "the Lion, may his memory be for a blessing." The Arizal was one of the great mystics of 16^th Century Tzefat.
11. Kahal -- the community.
12. See Deuteronomy 31:18
13. Shmoneh Esrei -- literally, "The 18 Blessings." Amidah -- literally, "The Standing Prayer." This is the highest of all of our prayers. It consists of eighteen (really 7, 9, 19, or 20) blessings that are recited silently while standing.
14. Madreiga -- stage or level.
15. Neshoma -- soul.
16. Kavana -- spiritual focus.
17. Tefilla -- prayer.
18. Chiddush -- innovation or creativity.
19. Siddur -- the prayerbook.

Why is halacha so strict? I can't answer, as I disagree the premise of this question. I find that the question makes no sense. Let me explain.

The world we live in is governed by both physical and spiritual laws. We are used to the rules of physics — gravity, chemistry, biology, etc. — and accept the way these laws govern our existence. An attempt to violate these laws — such as walking off the side of a building and willfully resisting the force of gravity — will have very grave consequences.

We are less used to the spiritual laws that govern our existence, but they are no less real. Those laws are set down in the Torah and are known collectively as halacha or "Jewish Law." Unlike the laws of physics, the laws of spiritual reality can be willfully (or accidentally) violated, and most of the time such violation results in no visible physical consequences. But it does result in spiritual consequences that are no less real. These consequences can be summarized as increasing one's distance from (or decreasing one's closeness to) G-d. Closeness to G-d is the ultimate pleasure we can ever experience, and estrangement from Him the ultimate misery.

Now in reality, what looks to us as two sets of laws are really two manifestations of one set of law, the rules that Hashem (G-d) put into motion when He created this world. If we could see the world from His point of view — and one day we will — we would understand how these two sets of laws are really just manifestations of His Will.

Now, back to your question. You asked: "Why is the Jewish tradition so strict?"

My answer: "Do you think that the laws of physics are strict? Do you think that the law of gravity is strict? The laws of chemistry?"

So you see, such a question makes no sense. It comes from and is a manifestation of our distance form Hashem. Were we closer to Him, we would be much more cognizant of His Spiritual Law and the consequences of violating that Law — just like we are aware of such in physics.

Is Judaism strict? Not at all. It's real.