Chapters
Transcript
Automatic transcript; may contain mistakes, especially in Hebrew.
I was asked to speak on the topic of the recent terrorist event that occurred in Poway, San Diego. And this is the second time this year, it's a crazy thing to think about. It was the second time this year that Klobuchar has suffered a tragedy like this. We had in Pittsburgh earlier in the year, and now we had in a Chabad. shul in Poway. So what's our response? How should a Jew respond to this? How should a Jew understand these things? So start off with one basic question, but it's a difficult question. Magician Beratius Rabba tells us. How did Hakadosh Baruch Hu create the light that fills the world? So the Medgesh says that first Hakadosh Baruch Hu clothed himself kaviachal in a garment and.
then the light shone through that garment and, the Medgesh concludes, just as I learned this, concept in a whisper, so too I have passed it on to you in a whisper. So there's a couple of questions on this Medgesh. First of all, the question of the Medgesh was how did Hakadosh Baruch Hu create the light? But the Medgesh's response is that Hakadosh Baruch Hu conceals himself. So if the question is how do you create the light, talk about the light, don't talk about the concealment. That's the first question. And the second question of the Medgesh is, what does it mean that, Just as he learned this in a whisper, so too he taught it in a whisper. What does that mean to teach these things in a whisper? When you speak to somebody, if you're whispering, so then they can't hear you, unless you're very close to them. So what does it mean? What's the deeper message of the concept of these things being taught in a whisper?
Read the full transcript
Everything that happens in our lives is always deeply connected to the spirituality of the time that we're in. So in order for us to understand these things, I think it would be helpful for us to look at what's the idea of Sfiras HaOmer, and to try in a deep way to understand the message that's being taught to us, especially for the things that we're going through right now as a nation. When we look at the mitzvah of Sfiras HaOmer, it comes in a very interesting way. Psukim in Vayikra say as follows. She brings the carbon Pesach on the 14th of Nisan. On the 15th of this month, that'll be Pesach. Seven days you eat matzah. You're not allowed to do any molacha on Pesach. And these are the carbon that you have to bring to Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Okay, that's Pesach. Okay, the passage continues and it says, It says,
There's a whole process of waving the Karban HaOmer. And when do you do that? Mi Macharas HaShabbos. Mi Macharas HaShabbos is when you bring the Karban HaOmer. Girls, what day is Mi Macharas HaShabbos? That's the day after Pesach. Okay, so how does it go? It goes like this. On the 14th, you bring the Karban Pesach. On the 15th, it's Pesach. And on the 16th, you bring Mi Macharas HaShabbos, the Karban HaOmer. What's strange? If you were writing the Torah, how would you have written this? Think about what the Torah says. On the 14th you bring the carbon Pesach. On the 15th it's Pesach. Then seven days you should eat matzah. Don't do any malacha. These are the carbon you bring on Pesach. The day after Pesach we have the carbon HaOmer. There's something out of order here. If you were writing the Torah, how would you have written it?
On the 14th you bring the carbon Pesach. On the 15th it's Pesach. On the 16th it's the carbon HaOmer. Then talk about Shevas Yamim Matzah Stochelu. Why did the Torah go out of order over here? Before we answer these questions, start off with a basic question. How would you describe the condition of the world? Would you describe the condition of the world as one of suffering? Or would you describe the condition of the world as one of hope? It's a fundamental question. When you think about the world, when you think about your life, should you think about it as, I'm hopeful? Or should you think about it as, what it means to be alive is a state of eternal suffering? Now this is a very important question. Because the truth of the matter is that this world seems to be,
it appears to be, a state of eternal suffering. And that sounds very bleak, but it's also very true. Because if you think about it, the moment you're born, what process did you start? You started to die. Because life needs to be sustained. So even if we're not talking about tragedy, which we'll get to in a minute, the condition of a human being is one of suffering. So if you don't eat, you die so you need to work in order to eat and working is suffering because working is pain. right because everything that you're going to be involved in in work is going to involve a certain amount of pain because all production in our world requires pain right that's why Chava had the curse that if she wants to produce a child now it's going to have pain involved right and if Adam wants to eat from the land it's going to involve pain he's going to require suffering in order to work so on a baseline level when you look at the world the world tells you you are in a state of suffering and there's no escaping that suffering and every single day that you're that you wake.
up in the morning what you're basically looking forward to that day is a day of suffering even being in this year right now is suffering I don't, I don't know if you frame it that way. I kind of hope you don't, right? But it is. There's a certain amount of suffering because you have to use your mental acuity in order to understand the concepts that we're talking about over here. And so that requires a certain amount of concentration. And concentration can be draining. Think about the days when you've put in a really hard day of work here, right? So at the end of the day, how did you feel? Maybe you felt accomplished, but you probably also felt exhausted. Well, why did you feel so exhausted? Because it requires a certain amount of energy. The energy that you're exerting is because you're suffering. The nature of the world is friction. So every time there's friction, they're suffering. But that's not even getting to the big stuff. That's just your everyday run-of-the-mill stuff. And then there's tragedy. I lost my job. Right? So as long as you had a job, you were suffering, but at least there was a payoff. But now you lost your job and now what happens to your children? And think about all of the psychological energy.
that you're going to expend being anxious about how am I going to support my family? Right? Or think about the pain that it might take to have to accept sadaqah from somebody. That's a massive amount of pain. But even that pain is not, massive amounts of pain because at least within that pain there's the possibility, that I'll get a job. But what happens if, we have illness? And think about the amount of suffering that is involved in illness. Not only the person that's ill, but think about the psychological suffering that's occurring around the person that's ill. Think about what it's like for their parents or for their children, for their spouses, for their siblings. Right? There's a massive amount of suffering that goes on. Well, in a certain way it is. So if you think about, let's say, organizations like High Lifeline. So High Lifeline is basically an organization that says, we're going to help you in times of suffering. And who are we going to help? So we're not just going to help the person that needs to get to the hospital by providing transportation. But we're going to provide support for the siblings.
And even when people pass away, there's a massive amount of suffering that's left over. So they have bereavement weekends for children, for siblings that lost their siblings, and for parents that lost their children, right? There's a massive amount of suffering that occurs. But even that, right within that illness, that's not the suffering of death, right? And the suffering of death, if you've ever seen someone, and I hope that you haven't, but if you ever see someone go down that path of death, there's a massive amount of suffering when you're just focusing on the person that's dying. There's a massive amount of tragedy there. So when you look at the world, And you say, the condition of life is one of suffering. It's not incorrect. It's not incorrect to say that the condition of life is suffering. So how could somebody come to us and tell us that the condition of the world is one of hope? Where would they get off saying that.
I mean, it would come from a perspective of the two not being mutually exclusive. Right. But where do you know, where does hope come from? In other words, is hope just this thing that I imagine to cope with the suffering? Because I think that's what people with suffering would tell you. Wait, you said the world is a condition of hope. Well, I'm arguing that that's maybe another way of looking at it, right? And so hope means that, yes, there's suffering, but there's also hope. We're given a chair. Are we? Today you were given a chance. To live. And to suffer. I was just born. I didn't ask for that. Right. In fact, the Mishnah Nevo says you were born against your will. Against your will, you live against your will. So who. Sure. And all the things that you're going to do, or at least many or most of the things that you're going to do in any given day are going to be to ameliorate the suffering that you have with this existence. I agree. That's why I'm framing it as not the way, but as one of two ways of looking at it, right? But there's no question that a person who says life is suffering is not wrong. There's certainly a lot of truth to it. Otherwise, it wouldn't be bothering you so much. Yeah.
But we looked at, we see hope because we don't just believe that life is life. We don't think that it's just life is at who you're done. We believe life, and then there's more, and there's more within the life that we're living that isn't finite. People who suffer see a finite world and say, I suffer. That's it. There's the end. The hope that's there for us, and we see there's a life I'm suffering. What for? There's something behind the curtains playing the scenes that. gives me hope. So then there's another way of looking at it. The other way of looking at it is, of course, every single moment of my life is going to require suffering. But the reason that there's hope is not, and this is very important and it's very subtle, hope is not a coping mechanism to suffering. But, and here's the theory, but hope came before suffering. Now that, at first glance, doesn't seem to make any sense. Because how could I be hopeful about something that hasn't gone wrong? When are we hopeful?
We're hopeful when something is potentially going wrong. Right? Right, but that means something could go wrong. Right, well, that's the point, right? But the only reason I think that is because the condition of the world is suffering. But that's hope as an antidote, right? So it's like, I really want to get into this seminary, right? I'm really hopeful that I will. Well, why are you hopeful? Because there's potential suffering involved. So that's hope as an antidote to suffering, right? But I'm going to argue. That hope actually comes before suffering. That before there was suffering, there was hope. Now what does that mean? Because how could you be hopeful before there's suffering? Well, it depends on how you frame the suffering. Is suffering purposeful? Is there a reason for my suffering? And before the suffering ever occurred, there was purpose, there was a plan. And embedded in that plan, there was a hope.
And it's not that hope is an antidote to suffering. This is a deep idea. It's not that I suffer and then there's hope. But I hope when there's suffering because the hope came before the suffering. And the reason why hope works when I'm suffering... I'll say it again, don't worry. The reason why hope works when I suffer is because hope came before the suffering. So again... There's, I'm suffering, but I'm hopeful that I'll suffer less today, right, than I did yesterday, right? Or there's a potential tragedy, so I gotta have hope, right? But that's hope just as a response, okay? Or, hope is way before suffering. Hope occurs way before suffering. The suffering is purposeful. The suffering is part of a plan. The hope, before the suffering ever occurred, is there was something called hope. And the reason why hope is a really good antidote to suffering is because it came before the suffering.
And so if the refuah comes before the makkah, so then when the makkah comes, I have the refuah. But it's not that I only have a refuah because there's a makkah. I have the refuah, period. Now there's a makkah. Well, that's good because I have a refuah. So it's like I have hope. Well, that's good. And now if they're suffering, I'll be able to employ that hope as an antidote to suffering. But my hope is not because I have suffering. My hope is because I have hope. So it's a very different way of looking at it. Does that make sense? Not yet? One more time. You have hope without suffering. I have hope. You don't need suffering to have hope. Right. And now if I, one second, and now if I suffer, I'll have hope. Because you already had it.
Because I already had it. And I couldn't employ hope if I never had it to begin with. So some people think that hope is born out of suffering. Hope is not born out of suffering, according to this way of looking at it. Hope is the natural condition that you have. There's something about you that is deeply hopeful. And then if you have suffering in your life, it's okay, you can manage it. How will, how do you manage it? Because I have hope. So hope wasn't born as an antidote to suffering. A person, it lives in a state of hope. And then, because suffering is real, we have ways of dealing with suffering. And those are two very different models. So let's go back and look at our two models for a second. In the first model, we said every single moment that you're alive, you're suffering. You're expending energy all the time in order to avoid suffering. And tragic things you know are going to happen to you in your lives. We're just so foolish. Until we suffer, real suffering, until we get to tragedy, most people are walking through life going, well, somebody's going to suffer, but it's not going to be me. And then when it happens, they're like, well, that wasn't supposed to happen. But of course, every one of us in this room knows that we're going to suffer.
And if we haven't suffered yet, it's only by luck of the draw. And it's only because we're at an age where we're looking at people and we're going, I can't believe they had to suffer so young. But really, we're living in this magical world where we think we're never going to suffer. And that's not true. You're going to suffer. And tragic things are going to happen in your life. So some people say, okay, so life is suffering and I have to develop coping mechanisms to deal with that suffering. Or, alternatively, we build organizations like Chai Lifeline because we have hope, not because we have suffering. And then when people suffer, we have some place for them to go. Now you'll say, well, we only have Chai Lifeline because they're suffering. Well, why do we have Chai Lifeline? Why do we have any of these organizations? Why can't a person just say, okay, I'm suffering and that's it? What is it about us as a community that says when these things happen, we should band together for each other? Well, the only reason we have that is because we have hope. So there's something about us. There's something about the human condition. It's called the soul that tells you that all of this suffering is meaningful.
All of it is purposeful. And there's something about our suffering that demands to know why. And we're not okay with what appears to be unjust suffering. And here's the thing about unjust suffering. When it happens, we call out to the one that's bringing the suffering to begin with. So people will say the following. I don't understand how God could do this. Exactly. But isn't that the most incredible statement of belief in God? Because if your condition is hope, doesn't that make sense, right? If your condition is one of hope, then when suffering occurs and it appears to be unjust, right, like when you have somebody who tragically dies at a young age or in a horrific fashion, right, so then what do we do? We call out and we go, that's not right. Well, who told you that it was supposed to be right? Life is suffering. Well, what's the answer to that? Well, the reason that you say that it's supposed to be right is because you had hope to begin with. Do you understand? So when the unjust suffering happens, what's our reaction to that?
That's not right. And that's a good reaction. Does that make sense? Well, the difference is everything, right? Because if you're living in a world of suffering, so then your view on life is naturally going to be pessimistic. And whenever you meet anybody, what are you going to think? You're going to think the worst possible thing because life has taught you that life is suffering. So imagine what it would be like for somebody who has that worldview to walk into Tomer Devorah on day one. Well, she's going to look around and she's going to say, I'm not going to be friends with these people, right? And she's not wrong because inevitably this year you're going to have some fights, right? As I imagine some of you may have already had. Roommate issues, right? The temperature of a room, right? By the way, I say that in any seminary that I teach at, I say the temperature of a room and you see all the girls going.
The lights or the noise in a room. Inevitably, there are going to be shurim that you don't like. So there's going to be conditions of suffering over the course of the year. And so a person who walks in with a perspective of suffering, what's their response going to be when they walk in on day one to anything? They're going to say, it's probably going to involve suffering. And they're not wrong. And yet, when you walked in this year, I hope, perhaps you walked in not with an optimistic worldview, because optimism is just like, I'm a positive thinker, right? Hope is much, much deeper than that, right? Hope is... I'm, I'm not looking at the suffering that's going to, that's going to be involved in this year. And it's not because you're ignoring the suffering, but because it's not the way you see the world, right? So there's something about you that came here this year and said, I'm deeply hopeful that this year is going to be transformative. Well, where did that come from? And by.
the way, you know exactly who you are if you're that type of person, right? If you were the type of person who was sitting there in high school going, I'm just waiting till I go to Israel, right? And it's not something that you necessarily said out loud. Maybe you didn't even say it to your closest friends because you were embarrassed to say it. But deep in your heart, you knew about yourself. Yeah, I'm going to go to Israel and I'm really going to turn it on. It's going to be a transformative year. Well, where did that hope come from? There's something about our design, that tells us that there's what to be hopeful for, that we can live in a world that has a. better tomorrow, that we live in a world that ameliorates suffering. Not because we need to get rid of it because we can't take it, but because it's purposeful, so we have to access it. So all of a sudden, suffering takes on meaning to us. So this is one of my favorite ideas that I ever heard. It's an idea from Rav Saloveitchik. And he says, I was young and I was old, and I never saw a tzaddik go hungry and his children didn't have bread to eat.
And Rav Saloveitchik asks, well, how could that be? What do you mean? You never saw the righteous people suffer? So he said, no, you're misreading the pasuk. Nar ha'isi, I was young. V'gam zakanti, and I was old. V'lo ra'isi, and I never stood by and watched, as a tzaddik went hungry and didn't have bread to feed his children. Well, what's the value of saying that? The value of saying is, I won't be a person who stands by and watches suffering. Well, why not? Because it's not the worldview that a Jew has. The worldview that a Jew has. is that suffering is a call to action. And every single one of us deeply knows that. We know that suffering is a call to action. So when we see somebody suffering, what's our natural response? Even if we're not suffering, but what's our natural response to them? I want to help. So it's the most amazing thing. As a community, when these things occur, our response is off the charts. So for example, when Ari Fuld, Hashem Yikom Damo, was murdered this year, after like, I think it was maybe after the week of Shiva,
maybe a couple days later, they had raised well over a million dollars to support his family from people from all over the world. How did that happen? And what's the answer? The answer is because we are a people of hope, right? It's not by accident, that the national anthem of the state of Israel is Hatikvah. It's because we're a people that was built on hope. Well, people ask the question, well, how have Jews survived throughout the millennia? Well, the answer is very simple. If we would have had a perspective of suffering, we never would have survived. But every single time we've suffered, we've done incredible things with the suffering. So when you look at the Spanish Inquisition, it was a terrible time, but some of the greatest works that we have came from those times, right? We were exiled to Bava, we created Shas Bavli, right? So any time that there's been suffering, Jews have always responded with purpose. Does that make sense? Well, the reason we do that is because we're deeply hopeful. So after the Holocaust, everybody said it was over. Nobody could possibly rebuild after this. And the Gedolim came ahead and said, okay, but we're going to rebuild.
And Rav Aaron Cutler started Lakewood, and Rav Moshe Feinstein was in New York, and Rav Yaakov Kamineski was in Torah Vedas, and the Gedolim rebuilt World Jewry, and now we're flourishing. And thousands upon thousands of people are learning the yeshivas, and people are moving to Eretz Yisrael, and people are coming to seminary for the year, and if you would have told our great-grandparents, right, if you would have told them that this, if you would have gone back to a Jew in 1939, in 1940, in Germany, in Poland, in Czechoslovakia, and you would have told them that this, that don't worry, your grandchildren and great-grandchildren will be sitting and learning in Yerushalayim, and that they'll not only be free to learn, but that their parents are going to have the capability of sending them for the year to just focus on sitting and learning so they could be, you know, impactful Jewish mothers. What would your great-grandparents have said? Well, I wonder what they would have said, right? Because maybe people who are in a state of suffering would have said that. But I wonder if our great-grandparents were hopeful enough to be able to imagine such a future and maybe that's how they did it. What was that? Yeah, for sure. Well, why did they daven for it?
Because they were hopeful. Right? I don't know if they would or they wouldn't, but I'd like to believe that they would. Right? Because if you think about it, we've been hopeful that the Beis Hamikdash will be rebuilt. Well, how do we know that it's going to happen? If you look at the Animamim, what does the Animamim say? Va'afal pishayis ma'maya im kol z'achakalo. Even though Moshiach hasn't come yet and even though he tarries, I'm waiting for him. Well, why would you wait for someone for so long? That doesn't make any sense. Right. Only if you really believe that he's going to come. But other than that, you would never wait if you were waiting for a date. And he didn't show up for thousands of years. You would never tell your kids, right, you married somebody else, but like I'm still waiting for that date. So every night I go to that hotel lobby at eight o'clock, just maybe, and now you're like a bubby and you're in your, you know, you're in your early 90s and you pull in your great grandchild and you say to your great grandchild,
listen, you know that at eight o'clock every night I go to the Leonardo Hotel, because I'm still waiting for that Shurukh day. And now I tell you it's your turn to wait because maybe his children will show up. You know, like, okay, Safta needs to go to a home now. You know, like that's, and that's what it's, and that's exactly what we do, right? Every single generation tells the next one that it doesn't matter in how many generations they rise up against us, just hang in there because it's coming. Well, at some point you would say it's not coming anymore. And that's what they that's what they tried to do, the conservative and reform movement, they tried to take Moshiach out, because they said, this is an arishkeit already. And as a result, their movements have suffered tremendously, because when you remove hope, all you're left with is suffering. And we're exactly the opposite. So let's go back just for a second to these psukkim, because I think they're gonna be very illuminating here. What comes first? Redemption,
or the karbana omer? Well, the karbana omer represents suffering, right? It's when you come into Eretz Israel, and now you actually have to build the land, and there's there's a lot of work involved in building the land, and then you come with your karbana omer, you come with your, you know, your bare bones, and you say, okay, I'm giving this to God. That required a massive amount of suffering, and we left the midbar. Right? And the omer represents the suffering of this world. And at the same time, and that's not, that's not the same as Pesach. That's not the same as redemption. Pesach is, it's very clear that they're two very different sets of psukkim, right? So first we start off with, you know, on the 14th you bring the carbon Pesach, and on the 15th you have Pesach, and then you have your seven days of Pesach that you eat matzahs. And then only afterwards, as we go back and we talk about the Omer, because they're two very different things, right? Yes and no. Because the Omer happens in the context of redemption. Do you understand? And that frames how you come into Eretz Yisrael, right? If you come into Eretz Yisrael and all you have is the suffering, well, it's true that suffering and freedom are two separate motifs. But the suffering happens in the context of the redemption of Pesach.
So you're redeemed from Mitzrayim, and you lead this idyllic life in the Midbar, and you're totally redeemed. And then only afterwards do you have the suffering. And the reason that you have that suffering is because now when you're ingrained with the notion of redemption, when you're ingrained with the notion of hope, then how you engage suffering is totally different. And so while there are two separate motifs, there's redemption, there's the hope, right, and then there's the suffering, but the suffering occurs within the context of the hope, and that makes it meaningful, and that makes it purposeful. That's how you're able to bring it, Tasha. And I think perhaps that's the Peshad and the Medrash, right, because the Medrash wasn't. just simply asking a question of how you create light. The Medrash was asking a fundamental question of why do the righteous suffer? And the answer is, well, there's the garment, right, there's the light, that's Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and then there's the garment, that's the darkness, that's the hesder panim, and the light shines through the darkness, and that's our job. Our job is to find that. But here's the thing. You can only learn that lesson in a whisper, and you can only teach it to somebody else in a whisper.
So what does that mean, to learn it and to teach it in a whisper? Whispering is a very powerful imagery, because in order to hear a whisper, you need to be close. And if you think about it, the medrash gives us the ultimate distance, right? It talks about the hesder panim, it talks about the hiding of Hakadosh Baruch Hu's light in this garment. And yet at the same time we're talking about it being a whisper. Here's the key. If you want to learn the secret to suffering, it's going to be very subtle. It's almost going to be unheard. You have to draw closer to G-d in the suffering in order to hear the whisper. And most people, when they've done it, it changes them. But it's so difficult to do. So for example, when you're undergoing some suffering, hopefully not too much suffering, but when you're undergoing some suffering, if you have a tragedy, and you're able to turn towards G-d, it won't be that you understand why it happened.
Because that's just speculation. We never know why things happen. But what you'll be able to hear is the whisper calling out to you and saying, find me in the darkness. And so the Tamidei HaRamchal say, what does the word Matai mean? Mitzvos, Tshuva, and Yeshurin. So when will Mashiach come? When we find G-d in our mitzvos, which is not so simple, because a lot of us do our mitzvos just by rote. When we find G-d in our aveiras, and that's not so simple either, to actually do a real Tshuva. And the last one is when you find G-d in your Yeshurin, when you find G-d in your suffering. And that's the one that really brings Mashiach. Because ultimately those that have suffered, but they hang in there towards those last moments, and they say, okay, but I'm here. And they're able to hear that whisper in the suffering. That's what really brings G-d to be revealed in this world. And that is only something you can learn in a whisper, and it's only something you can teach in a whisper. Because even right now, as I'm talking, it doesn't really mean anything to you. Because hopefully you're not in a state of suffering right now.
But when you're in that state of suffering, if there is that chance that you have to listen to the whisper of G-d saying, pay attention, I'm calling out to you from within the suffering, can you find me? Well, that's exceptionally powerful. And I'd like to read to you something now, with your permission, something that I think is very meaningful. Do you know this rabbi, the Chabad of Poway, Rabbi Goldstein? Rabbi Goldstein wrote an article in the New York Times. I'm going to read to you the article. And I think that this is the ultimate response of how a Jew responds to the whisper that he hears in the suffering. And it's very powerful, so really try to listen carefully. April 29th, 2019. The article is entitled, A terrorist tried to kill me because I am a Jew. I will never back down. Today should have been my funeral. I was preparing to give my sermon Shabbat morning, Saturday, which was also the last day of Passover,
the festival of our freedom, when I heard a loud bang in the lobby of my synagogue. I thought a table had fallen down, or maybe even that, God forbid, my dear friend Lori Gilbert Kay had tripped and fallen. Only a few moments earlier I had greeted Lori there. She had come to services to say Yizkor, the morning prayer for her late mother. I went to the lobby to check on her. What I saw in those seconds will haunt me for the rest of my days. I saw Lori bleeding on the ground, and I saw the terrorist who murdered her. This terrorist was a teenager. He was standing there with a big rifle in his hands, and he was now aiming it at me, for one reason. I am a Jew. He started shooting. My right index finger got blown off. Another bullet hit my left index finger, which started gushing blood. After the massacre in Pittsburgh, we had a community training. Now that training kicked in, somehow my brain directed my body to the synagogue ballroom where the children, including two of my grandchildren, were playing. I ran toward them screaming, get out, get out! I grabbed as many as I could with my bloody hands and pushed them out of the building.
One of our congregants that day, Almog Peretz, a veteran of the Israeli Defense Forces, ran after me to help get the children to safety and took a bullet in the leg. His eight-year-old niece, Noya Dahan, took some shrapnel to hers. Then an amazing miracle occurred. The terrorist's gun jammed. Two other heroic congregants, an Army veteran named Oscar Stewart and an off-duty Border Patrol agent named Jonathan Morales, rushed toward him and he fled. The ambulances had not yet arrived. We all gathered outside. I don't remember all that I said to my community, but I do remember quoting a passage from the Passover Seder liturgy. In every generation they rise against us to destroy us, and the Holy One, blessed be He, saves us from their hand. And I remember shouting the words, Am Yisrael Chai, the people of Israel live. I have said that line hundreds of times in my life, but I have never felt the truth of it more than I did then. I am a religious man. I believe everything happens for a reason. I do not know why G-d spared my life. I do not know why I had to witness scenes of a pogrom in San Diego County.
like the ones my grandparents experienced in Poland. I don't know why a part of my body was taken away from me. I don't know why I had to see my good friend, a woman who embodied the Jewish value of chesed, hunted in her house of worship. I don't know why I had to watch Lori's beloved husband, a doctor, faint as he tried to resuscitate her, and then their only daughter, Hannah, sob in agony as she encountered both her parents collapsed on the floor. I do not know G-d's plan. All I can do is try to find meaning in what has happened. And to use this borrowed time to make my life matter more. I used to sing a song to my children, a song that my father sang to me when I was a child.
Hashem is here, I would sing, using a Hebrew name for G-d, pointing with my right index finger to the sky. Hashem is there, I would sing, pointing to my right and left. Hashem is truly everywhere. That finger I would use to point out G-d's omnipresence was taken from me. I pray that my missing finger serves as a constant reminder to me, a reminder that every single human being is created in the image of G-d, a reminder that I am part of a people that has survived the worst destruction and will always endure, a reminder that my ancestors gave their lives so that I can live in freedom in America, and a reminder most of all, never. ever, not to be afraid to be Jewish. From here on in I am going to be more brazen, I am going to be even more proud and walking down the street wearing my tzitzit and kippah, acknowledging G-d's presence, and I'm going to use my voice until I'm hoarse to urge my fellow Jews to do Jewish, to light candles before Shabbat, to put up mezuzahs on their doorposts, to do acts of kindness and to show up in synagogue, especially this coming Shabbat. I am a proud emissary of Chabad Lubavitch, a movement of Hasidic Judaism. Our leader, the great Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, famously taught that a little light.
expels a lot of darkness. That is why Chabad Rabbis travel all over the world to set up Jewish communities. I have colleagues in Kathmandu, in Ghana, as well as in Paris and Sydney. We believe that helping any human being tap into their divine spark is a step toward fixing this broken world and bringing closer the redemption of humanity. It is why 33 years ago my wife and I came to this corner of California to build a house of light. Because we are obviously Jewish, identifiable by our black hats and beards, it has also meant that some of us have been targets before. Eleven years ago my colleagues Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holzberg, who ran the Chabad of. Mumbai, India, were murdered with the four of their guests. They were targeted by the terrorist group Lashkar-e-Taliba because they were Jewish. And over the years, people I know have been harassed and assaulted by thugs in the neighborhood where I grew up, Crown Heights, Brooklyn, in incidents that typically go unreported by the press. In his vile manifesto, the terrorists who shot up my synagogue called my people, the Jewish people, a squalid and parasitic race. No. We are a people divinely commanded to bring God's light into the world. So it is with this country. America is unique in world history. Never before was a.
country founded on the ideals that all people are created in God's image and that all people deserve freedom and liberty. We fought a war to make that promise real, and I believe we can make it real again. That is what I pledge to do with my borrowed time. Well, that's just an exceptional response to the whisper of suffering.
Is this shiur filed in the wrong place? Let us know.