One Moment--אז

Triumphantly marching out of Egypt, the children of Israel set their eyes on a new future, as they follow their leader, Moses, into the desert. The drama of פרשת בשלח builds up like a thriller, with פרעה, still suffering from his loss, mounting his chariot to chase his escaped slaves. בני ישראל, looking ahead, see only a blue sea in the distance; turning around, though, they witness the approaching Egyptian army. Panic pervades the camp. Screaming to משה and God at the same time, they ask for a sign not unlike the one they had seen in מצרים, and suddenly the sea splits before them. As the stream of Israelites pass through to safety, they turn around once again, but this time to enjoy their enemy drowning in the Sea "סוס ורוכבו רמה בים".

As בני ישראל finally breathe the new air of a free people, they automatically begin to sing a song of praise to their savior; the תורה, though, chooses a strange word to introduce this שירה - "ישיר משה 'אז' ". 'Then', Moses and the children of Israel sang. What is this אז? Why was this word chosen as a prelude to the song, when the Torah has many common grammatical openings for such a passage: וישר משה, 'And he sang' or בעת ההיא ישיר משה...'At that time...', why אז?

The Midrash, sensitive to the choice of words, offers us some insight, although, in a perplexing manner:
"אמר רבי עקיבא, בשעה שאמרו ישראל אז ישיר, לבש הקב"ה חלוק של תפארת שהיו חקוקין עליו כל אז שבתורה: אז תשמח בתולה, אז ידלג כאיל פסח, וכו. וכיון שחטאו חזר וקרעו שנאמרבצע אמרתו. ועתיד הקב"ה להחזירו שנאמר אז ימלא שחוק פינו.
" At the time when Israel sang in praise, God adorned himself in a cloak embedded in it all the אז's in the Torah. When they sinned, He ripped it up. However, in the future, He will return to wear it once again."

What is the meaning of this strange metaphor? Why would the word אז embody the relationship between עם ישראל and `ה? In order to decipher the meaning of the Midrash we must analyze the true meaning of אז. In reality an אז is a moment in time. "Then", at that second, an incident occurred. What incident? That depends on the person, or, in our case, בני ישראל. Rabbi Joseph Baumol once explained that our lives are really made up of a few momentous occasions, a few אז's. The difference between a simpleton and a great man lies only in the number of great moments he encounters, or creates. The simpleton at the end of his life will look back to those few incidents where he shined; his marriage, children, possibly a great business deal, but all in all, not much in which to revel. An איש גדול on the other hand will be able to magically adorn his past years with beautiful אז's.

The analogy applies in the religious realm as well as the worldly. The true difference between the תפלה of an average Jew and that of a pious one once again depends on the אז. In an average שמונה עשרה, with its nineteen blessings, and supplications, a person, if lucky, will have one moment where he feels he is speaking to Hashem. So sad is our state that the poskim maintained one should not repeat his תפלה if it was said without proper כוונה. The pious one, though, from the initial request of שפתי תפתח`ה to the closing praise עושה שלום במרומיו, is in a constant dialogue with his creator, raising himself to unlimited heights. This then is the power of the אז, the capitalization of your most sacred moments.

Understanding anew this concept of אז, we can fully appreciate the greatness of the Israelites after קריעת ים סוף. When the Midrash exclaimed "At the time whenבני ישראל sang songs of praise to God, they were equal to Moses, and Moses was equal to them," it meant to say that at that moment, one of the greatest אז's in their lives, they had the ability to turn toward their redeemer and praise Him . That indeed warranted the label of "שקול כמשה רבינו", equal to Moses their leader.

If we return to our initial Midrash , the words of חז"ל radiate the profound event. That crucial moment when the children of Israel witnessed the demise of the Egyptian army, a natural reaction would be to celebrate, dance, and embrace one another. But without hesitation they turned to `ה and sang a beautiful song. הקב"ה could do nothing but enwrap Himself in all of the great moments, forming a cloak which would adorn Him day and night. Unfortunately, with the subsequent sinning of בני ישראל, the cloak ripped up severing the unique bond between Himself and His people.

The Midrash continues with one last message; " כל פרקמטיא של משה רבינו לא היתה אלא באז. הצלת נפשו..., קנטורו..., אף הפרשת ערים באז- אז יבדיל משה שלש ערים." In contradistinction to Israel, Moses maintained the spiritual level of "אז" throughout his life. Even the most mundane act as setting up ערי מקלט, was accomplished as an `עבד ה. Moses lived this life with such intensity and devotion that he was included in Rambam's typology as one of the four (himself and the Avot) 'unattainables'.

When we look towards the unreachable goal of Moses, or even attaining the level בני ישראל achieved, we often become depressed. The final line in the Midrash, though, encourages us not to despair. In the future `ה will redeem us, and once again adorn his cloak of many אז's leading His people to the ultimate ."אז ימלא שחוק פינו ולשוננו רנה"--גאולה

אז

Triumphantly marching out of Egypt, the children of Israel set their eyes on a new future, as they follow their leader, Moses, into the desert. The drama of פרשת בשלח builds up like a thriller, with פרעה, still suffering from his loss, mounting his chariot to chase his escaped slaves. בני ישראל, looking ahead, see only a blue sea in the distance; turning around, though, they witness the approaching Egyptian army. Panic pervades the camp. Screaming to משה and God at the same time, they ask for a sign not unlike the one they had seen in מצרים, and suddenly the sea splits before them. As the stream of Israelites pass through to safety, they turn around once again, but this time to enjoy their enemy drowning in the Sea "סוס ורוכבו רמה בים".

As בני ישראל finally breathe the new air of a free people, they automatically begin to sing a song of praise to their savior; the תורה, though, chooses a strange word to introduce this שירה - "ישיר משה 'אז' ". 'Then', Moses and the children of Israel sang. What is this אז? Why was this word chosen as a prelude to the song, when the Torah has many common grammatical openings for such a passage: וישר משה, 'And he sang' or בעת ההיא ישיר משה...'At that time...', why אז?

The Midrash, sensitive to the choice of words, offers us some insight, although, in a perplexing manner:
"אמר רבי עקיבא, בשעה שאמרו ישראל אז ישיר, לבש הקב"ה חלוק של תפארת שהיו חקוקין עליו כל אז שבתורה: אז תשמח בתולה, אז ידלג כאיל פסח, וכו. וכיון שחטאו חזר וקרעו שנאמרבצע אמרתו. ועתיד הקב"ה להחזירו שנאמר אז ימלא שחוק פינו.
" At the time when Israel sang in praise, God adorned himself in a cloak embedded in it all the אז's in the Torah. When they sinned, He ripped it up. However, in the future, He will return to wear it once again."

What is the meaning of this strange metaphor? Why would the word אז embody the relationship between עם ישראל and `ה? In order to decipher the meaning of the Midrash we must analyze the true meaning of אז. In reality an אז is a moment in time. "Then", at that second, an incident occurred. What incident? That depends on the person, or, in our case, בני ישראל. Rabbi Joseph Baumol once explained that our lives are really made up of a few momentous occasions, a few אז's. The difference between a simpleton and a great man lies only in the number of great moments he encounters, or creates. The simpleton at the end of his life will look back to those few incidents where he shined; his marriage, children, possibly a great business deal, but all in all, not much in which to revel. An איש גדול on the other hand will be able to magically adorn his past years with beautiful אז's.

The analogy applies in the religious realm as well as the worldly. The true difference between the תפלה of an average Jew and that of a pious one once again depends on the אז. In an average שמונה עשרה, with its nineteen blessings, and supplications, a person, if lucky, will have one moment where he feels he is speaking to Hashem. So sad is our state that the poskim maintained one should not repeat his תפלה if it was said without proper כוונה. The pious one, though, from the initial request of שפתי תפתח`ה to the closing praise עושה שלום במרומיו, is in a constant dialogue with his creator, raising himself to unlimited heights. This then is the power of the אז, the capitalization of your most sacred moments.

Understanding anew this concept of אז, we can fully appreciate the greatness of the Israelites after קריעת ים סוף. When the Midrash exclaimed "At the time whenבני ישראל sang songs of praise to God, they were equal to Moses, and Moses was equal to them," it meant to say that at that moment, one of the greatest אז's in their lives, they had the ability to turn toward their redeemer and praise Him . That indeed warranted the label of "שקול כמשה רבינו", equal to Moses their leader.

If we return to our initial Midrash , the words of חז"ל radiate the profound event. That crucial moment when the children of Israel witnessed the demise of the Egyptian army, a natural reaction would be to celebrate, dance, and embrace one another. But without hesitation they turned to `ה and sang a beautiful song. הקב"ה could do nothing but enwrap Himself in all of the great moments, forming a cloak which would adorn Him day and night. Unfortunately, with the subsequent sinning of בני ישראל, the cloak ripped up severing the unique bond between Himself and His people.

The Midrash continues with one last message; " כל פרקמטיא של משה רבינו לא היתה אלא באז. הצלת נפשו..., קנטורו..., אף הפרשת ערים באז- אז יבדיל משה שלש ערים." In contradistinction to Israel, Moses maintained the spiritual level of "אז" throughout his life. Even the most mundane act as setting up ערי מקלט, was accomplished as an `עבד ה. Moses lived this life with such intensity and devotion that he was included in Rambam's typology as one of the four (himself and the Avot) 'unattainables'.

When we look towards the unreachable goal of Moses, or even attaining the level בני ישראל achieved, we often become depressed. The final line in the Midrash, though, encourages us not to despair. In the future `ה will redeem us, and once again adorn his cloak of many אז's leading His people to the ultimate ."אז ימלא שחוק פינו ולשוננו רנה"--גאולה

Parshat Vayera: A View from Without and Within

This Parsha is very applicable to Jews in Poland. It contains within it destruction, ultimate sacrifice, loneliness of restarting, but also kindness, hospitality and even revelation. Destruction of a population comes with no divine warning (as opposed to the story of Noach and Jonah). Destruction comes not without a philosophical fight as Abraham uses very strong words to defend mankind (something Noah and Jonah did not do!) חלילה לך מעשות דבר כזה—it is ‘sacrilegious’ of You to do something like this…God here does not condemn Abraham for his choice of words but enters into dialogue.

Abraham as an outsider fighting for humanity despite its flaws brings with it strength and weakness. On the one hand he has no selfish interest; he is not looking out for his nephew, his family, or anyone which will help him. He simply acts based on justice! השופט כל הארץ לא יעשה משפט will the judge of all lands not mete judgment? He, from afar, can call out God for destroying righteous with evil להמית צדיק עם רשע to kill righteous with evil. In this way Abraham conducts a negotiation with God on behalf of the righteous of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Here is where the ‘outsider’ perspective limits Abraham’s ability to finish the job. He stops at ten righteous men. Less than that it is hard for Abraham to justify that judgment is being perverted. Yet, one who lives in the city, one who struggles and experiences the complexity of life in a city where evil pervades, he would fight until the last one! The fact that the angels come to Lot to remove him from the city teaches us that even one ‘righteous’ soul is worthy of salvation. An ‘insider’ fights for his home, his family, his history, his community without giving up! He knows exactly what is transpiring and he is aware of the complexity of a situation.

This week I visited the Schindler factory Museum. For anyone who saw the movie ‘Schindler’s List’ they might expect the museum to be about one man and his heroic story of saving over 1000 Jews from the inferno of the holocaust. Actually the Schindler part is perhaps 20% of the exhibition which is more about the history of Krakow prewar and during the occupation of the Nazis up until the invasion of the Red Army. Jews and Poles were subjugated, abused and killed.
Clearly the singling out of Jews for ghetto and eventually for murder makes our story uniquely horrifying and singular; yet for Krakow it is part of a bigger story of the ugliness of war, the oppression of a ruthless enemy, and the forcible constriction of rights, terrorizing of innocent citizens, turning them very inwards and insulated. At the end of the exhibit there is a room which defines the polarity and complexity of the Polish experience in Krakow. There were two books side by side with names of Non Jewish Poles living in Krakow during the war. One book was filled with 3000 names of Righteous Gentiles who risked their lives to save their own humanity, to save their neighbors and friends. Alongside that book is another one with the title ‘hatred’. It tells of a list of 4000 names of collaborating Poles who helped plunder Jews, abuse them even kill them.

I looked at these two lists and shook my head. For most of the Jews the narrative is straightforward—terror, dehumanization, concentration in ghettos, liquidation. For Poles it is more complex filled with some good, some evil, much chaos, fright, and the lesson learned of ‘keep your head down and perhaps you will be okay’.

Just as Schindler himself was a controversial figure and a reluctant savior, Poles themselves were embroiled in a complex web of selfishness, fear, and some with a desire to do the right thing. I emerged recognizing that my views as an ‘outsider’ from the US or Israel were quite different from how it appears to me here in Krakow. Krakow was an example of anywhere in Poland undergoing a terrible destruction and dealing with it in a complex and muddled way. And just as the war concluded another regime took over preventing these individuals from considering what just transpired.

Abraham and Lot both saw the evil of Sodom and Gomorrah. One from the outside who fought for the salvation of a city; one from the inside who lived through the complexity of this city and somehow managed to just survive though not un-singed, both are presented in our parsha dealing with imminent destruction of a world and being forced to reckon with the consequences of that horrible event.