| Eikev 5761 - August 10, 2001 |
In the Land of Because
Try to imagine life without the word "because". You got paid this
week because you came to work each workday morning. They let you walk out of the
store with a bag of food because you paid for it in coin, paper or plastic. As a
rule, you are loved by those whom you love, are cared for by those for whom you
care, are treated nicely by those whom you treat nicely.
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Eikev
Deuteronomy 7:12-11:25
Torah Reading for Week of August 5-11, 2001
In which Moses describes a land of milk and honey, recalls our failings in
our first generation as a people, explains where bread comes from, and alludes
to the Messianic Age.
The Parshah in a Nutshell
Parshah Summary with Commentary
More on the Parshah from the Chassidic Masters
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Tevye's Query
Philosophical profundity crops in up in funny places. Fiddler on the Roof
is a sentimental dollop of schmaltz that has warmed Jewish hearts for decades.
Its enormous popularity has nothing to do with metaphysical content.
Nonetheless, there it is, one of the most enigmatic and recondite issues in
religious thought, put into the mouth of Tevye the milkman by an unwitting
lyricist, garnished with "yubba buhs" and accompanied by an antic
little jig: "Would it spoil some vast eternal plan/ If I were a wealthy
man?"
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Serving Father
It was bitterly cold and snowing heavily, and when we cleared the edge of
the town the wind pushed me along. Though Reb Zalman was short and elderly
he strode sturdily, whereas I stumbled at almost every step until we finally
reached the ohel.
Even before I opened the door my little heart leaped up within me and
released rivers of tears.
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Words
First comes the sense of anticipation and slight frustration of struggling for the
pleasure that will shortly be mine. Then, slowly, finally, it begins. Attracted
like magnets -- sometimes
touching, sometimes not -- the lines become drawn to each other.
There is the shape of the letters themselves. The dance of black and white on
the page. The delight in having these strange lines take on sound. The surprise
when, all at once four or five of these shapes group together to make a word
with length, depth and dimension. And then, suddenly, a beat or pulse emerges
from a series of what by now have become meaningless sounds -- sounds that,
because of their lack of meaning, come from a place in me beyond the place that
looks for meaning in words.
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The Paradox of Free Choice
Isn’t everything predetermined by the mechanics of the universe? I’m just a programmed machine; how can I be blamed for being what I am?
Since G-d knows the future, what choice do we have in it?
Since there is nothing else but His Oneness, what room is left for us to make any difference? If G-d is the Primal Cause, doesn’t the buck stop there?
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